When It Rains, It Pours
by GrayWolf84
Summary: One rainy June morning in Hazzard, Luke gets an unwelcome letter...Rated T for drama and upsetting scenes. Feedback greatly encouraged.
1. A No Good Very Bad Day

**Author's Notes: This one's a bit, ah, touchier than the last few, less action, more drama, and I can definitely see some readers seriously disliking this first chapter especially. But, that's why it's _my_ story. Props to the recent Brooks & Dunn song "I Believe" and Brad Paisley's "When I Get Where I'm Going" - though they weren't direct inspirations, they were stuck in my head all through this. Feedback is welcome and encouraged, as always - praise, criticism, flames, raves, rants, anything. Hope you enjoy!**

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**When It Rains, It Pours**

**Chapter 1: A No Good Very Bad Day**

**Howdy, friends! Welcome to Hazzard County, where that old saying "expect the unexpected" was coined well before the county was even so appropriately named. There's another old saying, though, that's a little better suited to this story, and that's "when it rains, it _pours_". Those of you familiar with Hazzard ought to know already that the trouble meant by both those sayings _always_ has something to do with the Duke family, and I'll bet this time is no different. Let's watch and see.**

**_Thunk!_**

It was raining. Bo was sure of that before he even opened his eyes, though the windows were closed and he couldn't hear the soft patter of raindrops outside.

**_Thunk!_**

Bo knew it was raining because that annoying sound had to be Luke, outside chopping wood.

**_Thunk!_**

It was no use to pull the covers over his head and try to go back to sleep, he knew. He'd tried it half a dozen times before.

**_Thunk!_**

With a sigh, Bo shoved away the blankets and sheets and climbed out of bed, reluctantly heading for the shower to wash and dress and greet another day.

**_Thunk!_**

Bo didn't understand it in the least. It was June, and for three months now, since the turn of spring, every warm rainy day put Luke in a bad mood, and for three months, Bo had known the weather report before he even climbed out of bed. If Luke was still sleeping, it was a bright, sunny day. If Luke was outside chopping wood, it was sure to be raining cats and dogs. Luke had shrugged him off when he first asked about it, with the excuse that there wasn't anything better to do on a rainy day when they couldn't work the fields, and they could always use the stock of wood for the winter. Since he seemed fine the rest of the time, Bo stopped asking.

Bo was back in the bedroom, half-dressed, when he realized the sound of the axe had stopped. Buttoning up his shirt, he looked out the window towards the barn. Oddly enough, Ms. Tisdale, the Hazzard County postmistress, was standing out there in the rain with Luke, who was bare-chested and leaning on the long handle of the axe. Bo saw him thank her as she handed him a bundle of mail and a separate envelope, and then she headed back to herdirtbike in the driveway. Bo tucked in his shirt and pulled on his boots, and headed for the kitchen.

Luke was just coming inside, dripping wet, and since Uncle Jesse and Daisy weren't up yet, Bo started a pot of coffee and pulled out a frying pan to make breakfast.

"What was Miz Tisdale doing here this time of the day?" Bo asked over his shoulder.

Luke set the bundle of letters down on the table, drying himself off with his shirt. "Dropping off the mail," he replied.

"Since when does she do mail runs at dawn?" Bo asked.

"Since about five minutes ago," Luke answered crossly, and headed down the hall to the bedroom they shared, shutting the door behind him.

Bo stared after him, more than a bit taken aback, but then shrugged, and headed outside to the chicken coop to gather eggs. By the time he got back, Daisy and Uncle Jesse were both sitting at the kitchen table, and the coffee was ready on the stove. With Bo's cooking skills in mind, Daisy stood and took the eggs from him, setting about making breakfast while he poured them all coffee.

"Where'd the mail come from?" Jesse asked, picking up the bundle and removing the rubber band. It was the usual assortment – a letter or two from friends out of town, the electric bill, a Sears catalogue, a car magazine for Bo, and a ladies' magazine for Daisy.

"Luke said Miz Tisdale dropped it off a little bit ago," Bo answered, happily accepting a plateful of toast and eggs from Daisy.

"I thought I heard him outside this morning," Daisy commented, cracking a couple more eggs into the pan.

"I'm surprised the Kellers down the road didn't hear him," Bo remarked, still sore at being woken up early.

Jesse turned a stern look on his nephew. "Now Bo, you leave your cousin alone. We've all had our restless nights, and he's got a right to his."

"Yes, sir."

Jesse, Daisy, and Bo were halfway through breakfast when Luke emerged from the bedroom and joined them, dressed in dry clothes and looking quite pale.

"Are you alright, Luke?" Bo was the first to ask as his cousin sat down at the table.

"I'm fine, Bo." Daisy served him up a plate and he bowed his head briefly in prayer before picking up a piece of toast. The table was silent for several minutes until Jesse spoke up.

"Well, with this rain, there's no sense in going out into the fields. I'll call the feed store and see if that shipment came in - maybe you boys can go pick it up. I've also got some work needs doin' around the house and yard, after that."

"I'll take the truck into town, Uncle Jesse," Luke said in a tone that distinctly excluded Bo.

A little hurt, Bo looked down at his plate. "I guess that leaves me here with you, Uncle Jesse."

"I'm due at the Boar's Nest by lunch, but I'll help you out here until then, Bo," Daisy offered.

The Duke family rose from the breakfast table shortly after that, stacking the dishes next to the sink while Daisy ran some hot water to start washing. Bo stood for a moment with a frown, looking out the front door after Luke, before heading out the back door to join Jesse in the barn and see what needed doing.

It was nearly lunchtime by the time Luke came back. By now, Bo had changed out the oil in Dixie and the General, mucked out the stalls in the barn, and was working on patching a few leaks in the barn roof when the white pickup came rumbling up the drive. The rain had eased off to a drizzle, but he was still extra careful moving around on the slick shingles.

"You need a hand with that, Luke?" Bo called down to his cousin, who had pushed back the blue tarp covering the bags of feed and was leveling a fifty-pound bag on each shoulder.

"Nope!" Luke called back, headed into the barn. Bo shook his head and went back to work.

Lunch was a quiet affair. Daisy had already headed out to work, and none of the male Dukes had much to say by way of conversation. Afterwards, Jesse had nothing more for the boys to do, so Bo drove the General Lee into the barn for some tinkering, with hopes that Luke would join him. When he didn't, Bo went ahead and worked on the General anyways, resolved to have some fun even if Luke refused to. As the afternoon wore on though, Bo got bored, and went outside in search of his cousin.

Luke was back at the chopping block with the axe. He'd harnessed Maudine up to haul some fallen logs over from the woods, and then worked for a good hour to hone the axe blade to a sharp point. **_Thunk!_** The axehead was just biting into the first log when Bo walked up.

"You gonna be at that all afternoon?" he asked.

**_Thunk!_**

"That's what I figured," Luke replied without looking up.

**_Thunk!_**

"I thought I might go get in some target practice on the bow, you wanna come?"

**_Thunk!_**

"No thanks, Bo."

Luke didn't see his cousin's crestfallen expression as he walked away. Working on the General and archery practice just weren't as much fun without Luke. Bo went inside, looking for something to do. Jesse finally set him to peeling potatoes and carrots for dinner, while he heated the oven and seasoned a pot roast. When that task was finished, Bo idled away the time until dinner reading his newest car magazine in the family room. It wasn't until Jesse pulled the roast from the oven that Bo noticed the woodchopping sounds had stopped some time ago, and Luke was nowhere in sight. Jesse called his name out the back door before joining Bo back at the table. They waited for a good ten minutes in silence, looking at the empty seat, before Bo stood up.

"I'm gonna go look for him."

Jesse was frowning, but he shook his head and motioned for Bo to sit. "He'll come in when he's ready," he told his youngest nephew, and folded his hands to say grace. He hadn't missed Luke's unusual behavior, but the retired Marine was never one to be very open about his feelings, and Jesse thought it best to let Luke come to him in his own time, whatever the matter was.

Dinner was quieter than lunch, with just the two of them. Bo ate quickly and it was obvious that he itched to be excused, to go find his cousin, but Jesse said nothing. Once the leftovers were put away and dishes washed, though, he had no excuse to keep Bo any longer, and the blond was off in search of Luke. Living room, bedroom, and bathroom were empty, as was the front porch, the driveway, and the oak tree out front. The white pickup was still there, and Bo had the keys to the General in his pocket, so Luke was somewhere on the premises. A quick look in the barn showed an empty hayloft, and the animal yard was full of nothing but clucking chickens. With a frown, Bo took off at a jog down the path between the fields – maybe Luke had gone for a walk, out to the creek or the old north barn.

After an hour and a half of searching every corner of the Duke farm that Bo could think of, the drizzling rain turned back into a downpour, and he made his way back across the fields at a run. The barn was closer than the farmhouse, so he made for it, reckoning to take shelter until the downpour slackened off. He was drenched when he got there anyhow, but he went inside and closed the barn door after him just the same. Standing at the hood of the General, Bo was wringing rainwater out of his shirt and hair, when he saw a pair of boots from the corner of one eye, and a mass of dark curly hair leaning against the driver's side of the orange racecar. Still dripping, Bo stepped around the car to find Luke sitting on the dirt floor against the rear wheel, holding a mostly empty mason jar in one hand, a half-dozen yellowed letters in the other, and completely oblivious to his cousin's entrance.

"Luke!" Bo walked over towards his older cousin, who jumped at the sound and looked up with a squint. Bo knew by the strong smell of whiskey and the glazed look in his cousin's eyes that he was very definitely drunk, and something was very definitely wrong. With a sigh, Bo sat down next to him.

"What are you doin' out here?"

After several minutes' silence, Bo closed his eyes and softly asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Nope," came Luke's short reply, followed by a swig from the mason jar. Before he set it down again, Bo reached over and pulled it from his hand, found the lid, screwed it back on, and placed it out of reach. Luke let him take it without a fight, squinting at him with another searching look before going back to staring at the wall.

The Duke cousins sat like that for a solid half-hour, in silence, neither looking at the other. Bo had enough life experience to know how useless it was to argue with a man when he's drunk, and he knew arguing was all he'd do if he tried to pry the problem out of Luke now. So he sat there and kept his cousin company, clothes slowly drip-drying, as he searched through every memory of the last few days for a hint. He glanced at the letters lying limp in Luke's left hand, and realized it had to have been something Ms. Tisdale brought that morning. Come to think of it, Luke had been getting a number of letters in the last few months, and had sent off more than a few in turn. About a month ago Bo had teased him about writing to an old girlfriend, and Luke had laughed, but said nothing more of it. Bo wasn't laughing now.

Then Bo felt Luke leaning on his shoulder, and he looked down at his cousin's dark curly hair and realized Luke had fallen asleep against him. Bo sighed and reached over and shook him.

"Luke, come on, let's get inside."

Luke muttered an incoherent response and didn't move.

Bo sighed again and pulled himself to his knees, steadying his cousin with one hand. Taking Luke's arm across his shoulders, Bo slowly pulled him to his feet, stopping long enough to grab the letters and the mason jar in one hand. The movement jarred his cousin a little, waking him enough to only half lean on Bo as the blond guided them both to the barn door, outside, and into the farmhouse through the back porch.

It was only maybe nine o'clock, and Jesse was sitting in his favorite armchair studying the Sears catalogue when they came in. "What in tarnation…!" he began to say, at the sight of his youngest nephew half-carrying his oldest nephew inside, both dripping from the downpour outside. But Bo shook his head and set the near-empty mason jar on the shelf as they passed, and Jesse held his questions as Bo guided his cousin down the hallway.

In the bedroom, Bo got Luke into bed, pulling off his wet clothes and turning him on his side in case he got sick. Then he covered him with warm blankets and found a trash can to set next to the bed, just in case. Luke was asleep and snoring within moments. Before he turned out the lights, Bo looked down at the letters he'd set on the nightstand. He looked from his cousin to the letters and back with a pained expression, then picked them up and slipped out the door, closing it gently behind him. Bo hated invading Luke's privacy, when there really was very little privacy between them, but this was serious, and he had to know. By the hallway light, he looked at the topmost letter, dated yesterday and marked urgent. It told him as much as he needed to know.

**Now friends, I think we've seen it rain, and it's just about to start pouring.**

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	2. That's What Family Is For

**Author's Notes: It just occurred to me that the question might come up with this chapter - no, this isn't slash by any means. Also, if you're thinking, "Wow, GrayWolf84 sure writes an awful lot!" - well, this is why colleges have so few breaks, because an independent young adult with 95 percentof a degree, awild imagination, and a lot of time on her hands is a volatile combination. But, no one's complained so far. :-D Enjoy!**

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Chapter 2: That's What Family Is For

_'Dear Luke,_

_I know we haven't met, but Robert spoke of you so often that I feel like I've know you for all these years. I hope you will forgive my informality. I'm so sorry to tell you Robert passed away yesterday evening in his sleep. He has been sick for so long, it was a small kindness that he went so peacefully. Your letters have meant a great deal to him in the last few months, and I dearly hope you can come to his funeral. The veteran's bureau has told me he'll be buried with full honors at Arlington this Saturday, and they are making all the arrangements with his family. I've enclosed their contact information below, and mine as well. I look forward to meeting you, and I'm sorry to finally write to you with such terrible news._

_Sincerely, Pauline Herschmen, L.P.N.'_

Bo walked back down the hallway towards the living room, the letter in hand. He didn't read through the others. Jesse watched him with the same worried look on his own face, and Bo handed him the letter, sitting down on the couch. Jesse read through it once, then twice, and looked up, meeting Bo's furrowed gaze.

"He didn't say a word to me," Bo began, "I just found him like that in the barn! Uncle Jesse, this isn't like Luke at all! Why wouldn't he say something to us?"

Jesse frowned, but he had no answer. "I don't know, Bo, but he must be hurtin' somethin' fierce. Do you know who this Robert fella was?"

Bo shook his head. Luke had never mentioned any of it.

"Well, I figure at the very least, we need to get him out to that funeral, if Luke knew the poor man."

"But how, Uncle Jesse? We can't afford to drive or fly out there, and Boss'll never give us the travel permits so we don't violate our probation!"

Jesse looked thoughtful, and waited a few moments before answering. "You let me worry about that, Bo. You better go keep an eye on him. He's had quite a bit, if he drank that whole jar. We'll see what the morning brings."

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Luke opened bleary eyes and immediately shut them again. Even the soft grey light sneaking through the closed curtains of the window was like a dagger to his vision. After a moment, though, he decided it hardly mattered, what with the jackhammer in his skull and all. He sat up with a stifled groan, tasting the cottony feel of his mouth and trying to recollect details. Bo was already up and gone – Luke wondered how late he'd slept. No time for that – his stomach lurched, and he barely dodged from bedroom to bathroom in time to retch the sparse contents of an already empty stomach. Luke leaned against the wall behind him for a moment, closing his eyes and calming his pounding heart, and then pulled himself up to the sink and rinsed that awful taste out of his mouth.

God, how much had he had to drink? He dimly remembered Bo coming into the barn, and later sitting next to him on the bed as he retched into a trashcan. Oh, God, Bo. How on earth could he face his younger cousin after all that? And Uncle Jesse! How was he going to explain this to him? _By telling the truth, stupid_, Luke thought. He took his time getting dressed, dreading seeing his family out there waiting for him.

When he finally emerged from the bedroom fully dressed, wincing at the bright sunlight in the living room, he found himself alone in the kitchen. Thankful for small favors, Luke sat down at the table and rested his head against his curled arm, shielding his eyes from the painful light. He must have dozed off again, because he was startled when a glass of fizzing water – courtesy of two alka-seltzer tablets – and twoaspirin were set on the table in front of him. Bo didn't stop to meet his look, but turned and put some bread in the oven to toast, and poured himself a mug of coffee. Luke's heart sank a little further, if it were possible, and he gratefully took the medicine with a careful sip of water, shoulders hunched. Then Bo set the dry toast in front of him on a plate, and sat down in Uncle Jesse's usual spot at the end of the table.

"How ya feelin'?" Bo finally asked, breaking the silence.

Luke moaned slightly in response as his stomach expressed dislike for his second sip of water. He closed his eyes again, one hand on his brow, and felt slightly better when he opened them again. "I haven't been this sick in a long time," he admitted with a gravelly voice, still avoiding Bo's gaze.

"I don't think I've seen you drink like that in a long time," Bo patted his back as he walked past to get himself some toast too.

"That's cause the last time I did, I was seventeen and Uncle Jesse tanned my hide for setting a bad example for you." Luke slowly rubbed at the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes against his headache, against the sunlight, and against having to look up at Bo. "Where is Uncle Jesse, anyhow?"

Outside, two truck doors slammed. "Sounds like Daisy and Uncle Jesse out there now," Bo replied. If Luke had looked up, he would have seen a hint of a smile on his cousin's face, Bo's delight over their surprise for Luke edging out his concern.

Luke heard the screen door open and shut, and he finally looked up with a cringing expression, waiting for the angry lecture from Uncle Jesse. Jesse didn't say a word, though, but simply set two pieces of paper and a thick envelope on the table in front of his eldest nephew, then went to pour himself some coffee. Daisy walked around the table and hugged Luke from behind, kissing his cheek and rubbing his back before sitting down next to him. Bo got up to give Jesse his seat, and moved to sit across from Luke and Daisy. Luke picked up the papers and the envelope.

"We read the letter, honey," Daisy explained softly as he read over the top paper. It was two-week out-of-state travel permit for himself, and another for Bo underneath it, both signed J.D. Hogg. The envelope was full of cash, several hundred dollars by the looks of it.

Luke was suddenly glad he was sitting, because he'd have fallen over if he hadn't been, he was so overwhelmed. "Uncle Jesse, how…? But, we can't afford this! You need this…the mortgage…" He'd thought over the impossibility of the trip a hundred times the previous day.

"Don't you worry about that," Jesse told him. "And that money belongs to you boys by rights anyhow…that's the last of the reward money from catching those crooks last year. I've got enough to make the mortgage payment."

"But…"

"Luke, we want you to be able to say your goodbyes, whoever your friend is," Daisy said, wrapping an arm around his middle. She pulled him in a close hug, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"Thank you," was all he could manage to whisper. A tear trickled down his face and fell onto the permits, but no one said anything. After a moment, he looked up at the loving faces watching him with concern, and cleared his throat. "When do we leave?"

Bo grinned - for a moment there, he'd been afraid Luke would refuse to go. "As soon as you're ready to go, cousin! My stuff's already in the General."

Luke couldn't help but smile. Daisy hugged him and kissed his cheek again, wishing them luck and a good trip, before she got up and headed out the door. She was already late for work, and Boss had refused to give her the time off, what with two of the other waitresses out sick. As Dixie rumbled off down the driveway, Jesse suggested that Bo go double-check the oil in the General before they left.

"Ah, yes sir." Bo stood, finishing the last of his coffee, and headed out the front door. He knew Uncle Jesse knew he'd only just changed the oil yesterday, but it sounded like Jesse wanted a few words with Luke alone.

Jesse and Luke sat at the table for several moments in silence, before Jesse spoke. "I expect you to keep an eye on your cousin, and call in and let me know you're alright," he said, finishing his own coffee. "Be careful, and stay safe."

"Yes, sir." Luke nodded, though he wouldn't have thought to do anything otherwise. He was surprised when Jesse said nothing more, rinsing out his coffee cup in the sink and walking past the table towards the living room. He stopped in the door frame, and turned to look back at his nephew.

"And Luke?"

Oh no, here it came.

"I expect not to hear about any repeats of yesterday. I understand it, but that doesn't excuse it," Jesse said gently.

Luke almost would have preferred anger over the gentle understanding. "Yes sir," he answered quietly. Then Jesse was gone, headed out the back door and calling to the chickens to feed. Luke sat alone in the kitchen for a bit, taking cautious sips of water, until he stood and headed to the bedroom to pack.

**Poor ol' Luke. Makes you wonder which is worse - his headache or his heartache. My guess is on his heart.**

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	3. Road Trip

**Author's Notes: Whew! Talk about tough! Alright, a couple disclaimers for this chapter - my military and historical knowledge is limited (have you ever tried learning anything useful from the Marine Corps website?), and mucking about with the dates and years in this show is rough, since the actors seemed older than the characters but the show went on for seven years and then tie that in with the timelines in fanfic-land and I have no bloody clue what year this is supposed to be. So, I made my best approximation, and if anyone has better info, let me know. Oh, yes, and some song notes - once again, country music has a lot of ties to this story, and I was astounded to listen to Montgomery Gentry's "Didn't I" for the first time while writing this chapter last night, which exactly perfectly ties in. Also, pretty much all of Charlie Daniels' "A Decade of Hits" CD just keeps me thinkin' of Hazzard County. Anyhow, enjoy!**

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Chapter 3: Road Trip

It had just been after nine when Luke first got up, so it wasn't yet eleven a.m. when he and Bo were climbing into the General Lee. His suitcase was in the trunk with Bo's, and they'd already said their goodbyes to Uncle Jesse, each promising again to be careful and safe and to call and check in. Bo was at the driver's seat, and while he buckled his seatbelt, he gestured to his cousin.

"Hey, ah, if you want, Luke, you can lay up in the back seat and get some sleep," Bo suggested. His older cousin still looked terrible. Luke shook his head in refusal, though, and with a shrug, Bo started the car and set off down the drive. He glanced down at the seat between them, where the permits and money were tucked in the pages of a road atlas - they'd have problems if they left either on the kitchen table.

The drive was uncomfortably quiet. Bo tried to make conversation, asking Luke's opinion of his latest work on the General, but Luke's replies were short and he obviously didn't want to talk. Bo let it go and drove on, mentally waving goodbye as they crossed the county line. It would be a good ten hour drive to Virginia, not counting stops for gas and food. Plus, Uncle Jesse had cautioned him to keep closer to the speed limit, to avoid tangling with the law, so it would be quite late before they reached their destination.

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Back at the Hazzard County Sheriff's Department, J.D. Hogg was sitting at his desk with his feet propped up, delightedly counting out the bills Jesse Duke had paid him for those travel permits. No one was more surprised than J.D. when Jesse Duke, ordinarily a shrewd bargainer, had walked into his office first thing this morning and asked outright what it would take to get travel permits for his nephews. J.D. had named a price, and Jesse had paid it without hesitation, though not until Boss produced the signed and fully legal permits.

"240…260…280…three hundred dollars!" Boss laughed, placing the bills in a metal cashbox. Rosco walked in just then, and Boss jumped, snapping the metal lid closed on his hand. "Owww-wow-wow! Rosco, you peabrain! How many times have I told you not to come in without knocking?.!"

"Oh! Sorry there, little fat buddy! Khew khew! Looks like you hurt your pudgy little fingers…"

"Nevermind my fingers!" Boss cried as Rosco leaned over him to look, "What do you want?.!"

Rosco took a step back from his fickle employer, toying with his hat between his hands. "Ah, well Boss, I was wondering, just _why_ did you give Jesse Duke permits to let the Duke boys go out of town? I mean, he didn't pay you that much, I just don't understand."

"That's because _you_ wouldn't know an apple from an orange, and you certainly wouldn't understand a bargain when you see one, numbskull! Now tell me, w_hat_ have I been trying to get from them Dukes all these years?"

"Ah, the Duke farm."

"And _who_ always manages to interfere with my plans?"

"Ah, that would be the Duke boys! Ohhh, that's clever, that's clever! You gave them travel permits to get them out of here while…"

"While _I_ steal the farm out from under Jesse's nose!" Boss laughed, "And he paid me three hundred dollars to do it! Whoo-hee-hee-hee! Now, don't you breathe a word of this to that dipstick deputy of yours!"

"Breathe a word to me about what, Boss?" Enos came in from the outer office, overhearing the reference to him.

Both Boss and Rosco were caught flabbergasted, but Rosco recovered quickly. "It's a surprise, Enos, that's why we can't tell you! Now, get on out of here, go on patrol or something!"

Enos smiled brightly. He loved surprises. "Yes sir, Sheriff!" He turned and headed out the door to his patrol car, figuring to stop by the Boar's Nest. Maybe Daisy would have an idea of what it might be.

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It was midafternoon when Bo pulled off the highway and found a roadside diner. His stomach was snarling for something to eat, and his legs were getting stiff and cramped after more than four straight hours of driving - excepting one stop for gas, of course. Bo reached over and shook Luke, who'd fallen asleep shortly after crossing the Georgia state line.

"Lunchtime, cuz," Bo told him when he looked up sleepily. Then Bo took a few bills from the envelope and hid the rest under the front seat, and climbed out of the car, taking the keys with him - no sense taking chances. He was stretching his long limbs when Luke joined him, looking around and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"North Carolina, not even halfway there. You up for somethin' to eat?"

"Yeah, that's not a bad idea," Luke agreed, and they headed inside. His stomach had settled and his headache was a far sight better than this morning, though it still wasn't gone entirely. He hardly noticed the pretty little waitress who showed them to a table, as she traded smiles with Bo, and after ordering coffee Luke excused himself to go wash up.

In the men's room, Luke splashed cold water on his face and ran a hand through his hair, staring at his reflection in the mirror. It wasn't the reflection of the happy good ol' boy from Hazzard, Georgia who raced the General Lee, fought the system and the corrupt local law. It was the reflection that had looked back at him eight years ago at a bus station in Virginia, a hardened Marine with haunted eyes on his way home after twenty-two months in Vietnam - the last four in a hospital in Saigon - scarred in more ways than one. Then he heard Bo's laughter outside as he flirted with the waitress, and the sound made Luke smile. It was just like his younger cousin – lighthearted and smiling, making friends wherever he went, and keeping Luke from taking things too seriously. Maybe he should take a page from Bo's book and relax for a bit. Neatening his tousled hair, he dried his face and hands and headed out to rejoin Bo.

"This boy ain't botherin' you, is he ma'am?" he asked the waitress with a smile as he walked up. Bo looked up him with grin and a hint of surprise, and the waitress smiled up at Luke.

"Why no! He was just telling me some awful fibs about how last week he escaped from some silly sheriff in that orange car out front, jumping it over a creek and I don't know what all else!"

Luke turned a mock stern look on Bo. "Now Bo, you know better than to fib to this pretty little lady!" He turned back to the waitress. "That was _me_ that jumped the creek last week. _He_ was the one who tricked Rosco into crashing into the billboard."

For the rest of the meal, Bo was surprised by Luke's sudden change in attitude. Her shift soon over, the waitress joined them at their table, and the boys competed to tell her wilder and wilder stories of their escapades, most of them true, while she laughed and gasped in turns. It was too soon when Bo glanced at the clock above the counter and saw they'd been there for more than an hour. He got Luke's attention and nodded towards the clock.

"Luke, we've got to get going."

Luke was laughing with the waitress over some comment, but his laughter faded as he looked at the clock and was recalled to reality.

"So, where you boys headed, anyhow?" the waitress asked.

Luke looked down, while Bo pulled the money out of his pocket to pay the bill. "We're driving to Virginia, to a funeral for an old friend," Bo answered when Luke didn't.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" the young woman said, appalled.

"It's alright," Luke assured her. The good mood was ruined, though. She took the check and money as they both stood, thanking them for the tip and wishing them luck and a safe trip as they made for the door.

Outside, Bo stopped and fished his pockets for quarters. "Hey Luke, I'm gonna call Uncle Jesse and let him know where we are," he called to his cousin, who was already at the car.

"Alright. I'll wait here."

Bo ended up going back inside for change, then came back out to the payphone outside. Luke leaned against the General's hood while Bo called Jesse, overhearing snatches of the conversation.

"Hey Uncle Jesse…yeah, we're fine, we're in North Carolina. We stopped for lunch and I thought I'd call…yes sir…yes sir…yeah, much better…" Bo's voice turned quiet after that, and he soon hung up the phone and joined Luke. "Alright! Ready to go?" he asked his cousin.

"Yep. Hey, do you want me to drive for a while?"

"Sure, if you want to." Bo handed him the keys and climbed across the hood to the passenger side. The engine roared to life, and Bo directed them back onto the highway, and off they went.

They'd been driving for some miles, this time in a more comfortable silence, when Luke spoke up. "I'm sorry about last night, Bo."

Bo smiled lightheartedly. "Aww, it's alright, Luke! You've carried me home more than once, I was just returning the favor."

Luke shook his head. "No, it's not alright. I'm older than you, I'm _supposed_ to take care of you, not the other way around. Besides, that's…that's not how Uncle Jesse taught us to handle our problems."

Serious, Bo turned to his cousin. "Luke, we're not little kids any more. I'm here for you just as much as you are for me, and don't you forget that. Now, I'll admit, you scared me, and I wish you hadn't been drinkin' like that, but you're human just the same as me, and you're allowed to make mistakes. I'm just glad you weren't hurt."

Luke was silent, eyes searching the road ahead, before he smiled a little. "You been takin' lessons from Uncle Jesse?"

Bo grinned. "Him and my older cousin."

After that, the conversation turned lighter, and they talked and laughed on and off, listening to the radio. Two hundred or so miles and a gas stop later, they weren't too far from the Virginia state line when Bo turned from looking out the window and finally asked:

"Luke, who was he?"

For several long minutes, Luke was silent, and Bo didn't think he'd answer. Luke, though, was just trying to sort his thoughts, and decide where to start.

"His name…was Staff-Sergeant Robert Thomas Fulton," he began hesitantly. It was easier, driving, with his hands comfortable on the wheel and eyes on the road. He swallowed and went on. "He was the right-hand man to the lieutenant of my platoon in…over there…and he could have been a company commander, if he'd wanted to."

Bo listened quietly, and made no interruptions, though he was starting to understand Luke's reluctance to say anything. His older cousin rarely talked of his time in the Marines, and never spoke of the war at all. Bo had been in high school when he left and just graduated when he came back, still just a kid to his older cousin. Once, three years ago, Luke had talked with him a bit about the nightmares he'd had after coming home, when Bo himself was having a hard time after that mine collapse, but nothing since.

"He was serving his second tour of duty in the war, voluntarily, which was rare. He was in his forties, but after my first few days, we were fast friends. He…he got me through a lot of hard days, and saved my life more than once. He was an amazing man, an expert at everything out there, from…from demining to tunnel ratting, and he refused every promotion he was offered - he just wanted to fight with the platoon, nothing more, he said. I was sure glad to have him there when the lieutenant was killed and the whole platoon looked to me for orders.

"We…we were both discharged at the same time, and it wasn't until we was back stateside that he found out his wife and son had been killed in a drunk driving accident. His son was just a few years younger than me, and Rob prayed every day that he wouldn't be picked for the draft - but he never made it to his eighteenth birthday. He didn't have any other family - his in-laws were war protestors, and wanted nothing to do with him - so he moved back to the town where he grew up, got a job at the local hardware store. He asked, at the bus station, if he could write to me – said I was the closest thing to family he had anymore. I got a letter every week, that first year, and less after that, but we kept in touch.

"About…about two years ago, he started getting sick, was in and out of the hospital with pneumonia or bronchitis every couple of months. It wasn't until a letter in March that he told me, it was cancer, from working with Agent Orange out there in his first tour of duty, they thought. He'd been moved to a hospice, didn't have very long to live. Rob loved to hear about life in Hazzard, so I wrote as often as I could. It was…it was all I could do. And then…yesterday…"

Luke didn't have to explain the rest - Bo understood. He looked across at his older cousin. Though Luke's voice had been level and even throughout, tears streamed down his cheeks. He didn't notice Bo looking, but he sniffed and wiped his eyes.

"Sometimes, out there, he was like a father, and sometimes, he was like the older brother I never had. I can't believe he's gone," Luke's voice finally broke.

Noting that the gas tank was near empty again, he changed lanes and got off at the next exit, pulling into the first gas station he saw. Bo was quiet the whole way, thinking, but when Luke stopped the car, he turned to his cousin.

"I'm sorry, Luke. I wish I'd known him. I don't want to even imagine what it would be like to lose my big brother," Bo said softly.

Luke gave him a small smile, sniffing again. "Thanks, Bo."

Then they both climbed out, stretching stiff limbs as they refueled and cleaned off the windows. Before long, they were on the road again. Bo took the keys back and drove for the last leg of the trip, all the way to a little motel just off the highway between Washington D.C. and Arlington, Virginia. It was half past midnight on Friday morning when they woke the sleepy motel attendant and asked for a room.Bo called in to Uncle Jesse while Luke paid and signed for the room. It was cheap, and not much to look at, but the beds were clean and soft, and both Duke boys were glad of them.

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Bo hadn't been asleep long when an odd sound woke him. A streetlight outside lent a gray light to the little room, and Bo sat up and looked around. Then he heard it again. It was Luke, talking in his sleep and moving restlessly.

"Hey Luke," Bo whispered softly. No response. Swinging his feet over the side of the bed, he leaned across the small space to his cousin's bed and touched his shoulder. "It's alright, buddy," he started to say, but out of nowhere Bo found himself flying through the air. He landed with a crash against the far wall, and everything went black.

**Oh boy. Somethin' tells me ol' Bo and Luke are _both_ up for a hard awakening. Y'all come back, now.**

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	4. With a Side Order of Guilt, Please

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**Chapter 4: With a Side Order of Guilt, Please**

Bo groaned and opened his eyes. His blinked, vision blurry at first, and found himself looking up at two concerned faces leaning over him – one was Luke, with worried blue eyes, and the other was an unfamiliar man with thinning hair and glasses. Past them, Bo saw red lights flashing on the ceiling, and he realized he was lying on the floor of the motel room.

"Luke…" he whispered, as the unfamiliar man said, "Welcome back, young man."

"Alright, let's go," another unfamiliar voice said gruffly, and Bo looked to see Luke being pulled to his feet by a uniformed police officer, his hands cuffed behind his back.

"Wait, where are you taking him?.!" Bo cried, sitting up - too fast. Spots burst in his vision, and his ears roared. The paramedic at his side held his arm to steady him. "That's my cousin!"

The officer stopped and looked down at him with pity. "Yes, Mr. Duke, and he just threw you into that wall. Now, I don't know how they do things in Georgia, but up here, that's called assault and battery, and we don't stand for it."

Bo slowly looked up at the wall above him – there was a body-sized smash in the drywall, with a bright red smear of blood on the white paint. He groaned again at his growing headache.

"We need to get him to the hospital," the medic informed the officer, and both started to move again.

"No, wait!" Bo protested.

It took several minutes before he managed to convince the dutiful officer that he absolutely wouldn't press charges and no, Luke wasn't a threat to him, it was just a misunderstanding. Luke listened miserably, too guilty to speak up – he would have gone to jail without protest. Finally, the officer gave in to Bo and uncuffed Luke, mostly because Bo refused to go to the hospital if he didn't, and the young man looked worse by the minute. However, once Bo had been loaded up into the ambulance, the officer informed Luke in no uncertain terms that another incident in his town would land him in prison faster than a hound catches a two-legged coon. The medic also refused to let him ride in the ambulance, so Luke was left standing in the parking lot with the name of the hospital scribbled on a piece of paper in his hand, watching the red lights disappear into the dark night.

It was the motel clerk who got his attention next as he took a step towards the General Lee. The man angrily demanded payment for the damage to the room, and insisted that Luke pack up their things and leave entirely. Luke had no heart to argue, lost in his wretched thoughts, so he paid the man and loaded their suitcases back into the General. After wrangling directions out of the irate clerk, Luke climbed in the car and took off, speeding as fast as he dared after the officer's threat.

Luke needn't have bothered speeding, though. When he asked after Bo in the emergency room, the nurse only gave him some paperwork to fill out and said she'd let him know when the doctor was done with his cousin. He quickly finished the paperwork and spent the next hour sitting anxiously in the near-empty waiting room, more torn up inside than ever. He had no idea what happened, but…no, scratch that. He knew exactly what had happened. He had seen it before, seen one of his fellow Marines nearly kill another without waking up from a nightmare. It had taken weeks for the bruises around the man's throat to heal. Every one of them had known it could happen to them too, could happen to anyone who had seen the things they'd seen and done the things they'd done. Luke had woken up the instant Bo hit the floor, breathing hard and in a cold sweat. He'd been so terrified, seen the blood, was afraid to even touch his baby cousin, ran for help. Then the police and paramedics got there, drew their own conclusions, and he was arrested, but he wouldn't leave without seeing Bo alright. He didn't care if he went to jail, but he'd never forgive himself if Bo was hurt bad.

These were the thoughts going through Luke's mind when the white-coated doctor came out through the doors from the emergency room. Luke was numbly surprised to see the police officer with him.

"Mr. Duke?" the doctor asked. The stricken young man in the waiting room fit his young cousin's description.

"Yes sir," Luke stood, hopeful and fearful at the same time.

"My name is Dr. Henderson. I've had a look at your cousin, and we took some x-rays. He's got a pretty good concussion, and he needed a few stitches, but we think he'll be just fine. We're going to keep him here for the rest of the night for observation, and once they move him to a room upstairs, you'll be able to go see him."

"Thank you, doctor." Luke closed his eyes with relief.

"I would like to speak with you, though, about how this happened. Bo couldn't tell me much, just that he was trying to wake you from a nightmare. Is that right?"

Luke bowed his head, looking at the floor. "Yes sir, it must be. He was…he was on the floor when I woke up. I must have…" he trailed off.

"Has this ever happened before, Mr. Duke?"

"No sir…not to me, at least. I had some friends…but not me."

The cop stepped forward brusquely. "Mr. Duke, were you under the influence of any drugs or alcohol this evening?"

"No!" Luke scowled at the very suggestion – especially after _last_ night.

The doctor held out a cautioning hand to the officer before speaking again. "Mr. Duke, have you ever heard the term 'post-traumatic stress'?"

Growing more annoyed, Luke looked at the doctor with flashing blue eyes. "_Yes_. Now look, I just want to see Bo, and make sure he's alright. Are you gonna let me, or is he gonna arrest me?"

The doctor sighed. "No, you're free to go, Mr. Duke. I'll check and see if your cousin is settled in yet. But, if you'd like to talk with one of our counselors…"

"I don't."

"Very well, then. If you'll come this way…"

The police officer watched Luke with wary eyes as he walked past, but abided by the doctor's words and left to file his report.

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Luke paused in the doorway of the room the nurse had directed him to. Bo was awake and waiting for him in the bed closer to the door – a curtain hid the bed and patient on the other side.

"Luke!" Bo called to him, though he didn't sit up. His head was pounding, and the room had an annoying habit of swaying sideways when he moved. A patch of hair had been shaved off the back of his head, and a half-dozen fresh stitches made a ragged and tender line on his scalp, not to mention the swollen goose-egg lump back there.

Luke's response caught ragged in his throat. _Look what I did to him_.

"Luke, are you alright? That cop didn't give you more trouble, did he?"

"No, I'm…I'm okay," Luke finally found the words, stepping inside. He tried to sound casual, but Bo saw the worry and guilt on his face, plain as day. "How are you?"

Bo gave a slight grimace. "Well, I remember you warning us, way back, not to wake you up like that. Guess that's why, huh?"

Luke nodded, sitting down in the chair next to him. "Yeah, that's why. Bo, I'm so sorry!"

"Hey! C'mon Luke, you didn't do it on purpose, didja? Well, then don't beat yourself up about it! I mean, one of us's gotta be able to drive home…"

That got a smile out of Luke. "Look, why don't you get some sleep. I'm gonna go give Uncle Jesse a call - he'll be mad if we don't let him know what happened." _That I just threw you into a wall and gave you a concussion._

Bo yawned. "Alright, cousin. Give him my best."

Luke agreed, pulling the covers up to Bo's chin. His younger cousin's best wasn't very good right now. With Bo's eyes already closed, Luke went out into the hallway to search for a payphone. This wasn't a conversation he was looking forward to. It was nearly 3am, and he didn't relish waking Uncle Jesse with this news.

The phone rang five, six, seven times before Jesse answered, gruff, sleepy, and worried all at once. "_Duke farm, Jesse speaking._"

"Uncle Jesse, it's Luke."

"_Luke! Are you boys alright? What are you doing calling at this hour?_"

"Well…we're at the hospital in, uh, D.C. I think. Now, I'm alright, and Bo's…Bo's got a concussion. We had a bit of a, ah, accident."

"_In the General Lee? I thought you were at a motel for the night?_"

"Ah, we were. I guess…I was sleeping. I had a bit of a nightmare, and Bo tried to wake me up, and I…threw him into the wall, in my sleep."

Silence. Then, softly, "_Luke…_" Jesse hardly had to guess at the details.

"I know, Uncle Jesse."

"_Are you alright?_"

"I…" Luke paused, about to lie and answer Yes. "Well, no! I threw Bo into a wall! Uncle Jesse, I could have killed him! What am I gonna do? I…" he sighed, running a hand through his hair. Jesse could hear his frustration.

"_Luke…will you do something for me?_"

Quietly, "Yeah, what is it, Uncle Jesse?"

"_I want you to go back in there and sit with him, and go to sleep. You're exhausted and worried, and blaming yourself when there's no one to blame._"

"But…"

"_No but's. Go on. Get some rest, and give me a call in the morning._"

"Yes, sir."

"_I love you, Luke - and so does Bo. It'll be alright._"

"I love you too, Uncle Jesse. Goodnight."

Luke hung up the phone with mixed feelings, and made his way back down the hall to Bo's room. At least he could follow half of Jesse's instructions. He didn't think he'd be getting any more sleep tonight.

**Y'know, folks, I can hardly guess at half of what must be goin' through that poor boy's mind. First his old friend, and now this! Think Providence is gonna give him a break any time soon? Yeah, me neither.**

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	5. A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

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**Chapter 5: A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words**

"Luke?" Bo's soft voice filtered through his cousin's muzzy senses.

"Mmm?" Apparently he'd fallen asleep after all.

"Did, uh, did we get into an accident?"

That woke Luke up. He sat up in the chair and looked at Bo, who was looking around the hospital room with confusion. "No, Bo - you mean you don't remember?" He'd remembered just fine last night!

"No…I mean, I thought we got to the motel, but I feel like I was hit by a mac truck…what happened?"

Luke was on his feet, though. "Look, I'm gonna go find a doctor. Hang tight, Bo, I'll be right back."

Out in the hallway, Luke looked both ways and headed for the first nurse he saw, a prim red-head in her thirties studying a clipboard as she walked towards him.

"Excuse me, miss! My cousin, he…"

She looked up with surprise that faded into stern annoyance. "Young man, are you a patient here?" she interrupted.

"No ma'am, but…"

"Well I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave! Visiting hours aren't until eight-thirty, our patients need their rest!"

"But I've been here all night! Look, my cousin…"

"I don't know who let you in here, but it certainly wasn't me. Let's go, now!"

Unable to get a word in edgewise, Luke found himself standing outside the ward, the swinging doors swaying shut in front of him. Through the glass, he could see the nurse speaking with the others at the nurse's station, and they all looked back at him. He sighed. There would be no getting back in now. He turned and walked down the hallway towards the elevators, intent on talking to the first doctor he met.

Ten minutes later, Luke was sitting in another waiting room, literally twiddling his thumbs and looking up at the clock on the wall every minute or so. He'd found a doctor, explained about Bo, was assured he'd be looked at, and was sent down here to wait. It was 7:47. Couldn't they make an exception? he'd asked. No, he was told, the nurse was right, and the hospital had rules for a reason. Finally Luke got to his feet. This inaction was killing him. To pass time, he decided to go out to the General in the parking garage and fetch Bo a set of clothes and his boots.

After gathering Bo's things into a neat bundle under one arm, Luke paused and considered whether he needed any of his own things. Maybe something to read, he decided, and started looking for one of the magazines he'd packed. Instead, he came across an old cigar box carefully stashed between his shirts. Pulling it out, Luke considered for a moment, and then added it to his load. Closing the trunk, he set off back through the parking garage, hoping it was almost eight-thirty.

Luke was waiting at the ward doors at 8:29. The same prim nurse stood at the desk when he walked in a minute later, but he greeted her politely just the same and signed in before heading down to Bo's room. His cousin was asleep again when he walked in, though, so Luke sat quietly back in his chair and set the clothes down on the floor, to wait.

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First thing in the morning, back in Hazzard, Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane was rolling up the driveway of the Duke farm in his patrol car. Well, it was first thing in the morning for Rosco, which meant, after coming in late, talking with Boss, arguing with Enos, and taking two coffee breaks, it was close to eleven. Irregardless of the time, though, Rosco was grinning like a fox seeing the door to the chicken coop left wide open, and that was never a good thing.

"Oh, we got 'em this time, Flash, khew khew!" he snickered to his basset hound, who regarded him from the passenger seat. He patted the paper folded in his front pocket. "And it's all legal this time too, khew! I love it, I love it!"

Flash woofed a bass woof at her master. She, at least, knew better.

"Now, Flash, you wait here while Daddy goes and does some work," Rosco said as he parked the car in front of the farmhouse. "And if you're a good girl, he'll give you some num-num's when we get back to the Boar's Nest."

Jesse Duke saw Rosco pulling up from the barn, and walked out to meet him, wiping oil from the tractor off his hands. "Rosco! What're ya doin' here, the boys are gone and there ain't nothin' you can pin on them this time!"

"Now Jesse, that ain't very polite!" Rosco scolded, nearly tripping on a chicken as he walked across the yard. "Besides, I ain't here for them, I'm here to see _you_ this time!"

Jesse frowned at him suspiciously. "Well, what is it, then?"

Rosco pulled the paper from his pocket and handed it to the Duke clan patriarch. "I am here to serve you this official summons, and to take you in for intentionally defrauding the county and state government!" he declared triumphantly.

"What?.!" Jesse exclaimed, reading over the summons. "Rosco, what are you talking about? What's J.D. trying to pull now?" Daisy had told him last night that something might be up, after Enos told her what he overheard.

"Well see, _you_, Jesse Duke, are in violation of code 1346-7c of the state and county tax laws. Tax evasion," Rosco translated.

"Rosco! I've paid every penny of the taxes I've owed for fifty years, and I've got the records in the house to prove it!" Jesse rumbled angrily. Well, except for the moonshine - but that didn't count.

"Well that may be, but you're also in violation of code 982b, which states that every property owner in Hazzard County must have his land and property reassessed every five years by a state revenuer for tax purposes, and _you_, Jesse Duke, haven't had your property assessed in seventeen years! _So_, you've been lying on all your property taxes all these years, and I'm here to take you in!" Rosco snickered, "Oh, I love it, I love it!"

Jesse didn't have an argument against that one. He'd never heard of that law, and he was sure J.D. Hogg was behind this, but - grumbling - he let Rosco take him it, at least until he could get to the bottom of this. Flash looked at him sadly from the front seat as they rolled off.

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It was nearly noon, and Luke sat in the chair still, looking through the contents of the cigar box. They were pictures, mostly, that he rarely pulled out to look at. One was of him, Bo, and Uncle Jesse, standing in front of the farmhouse the day he shipped out for basic training. His cousin and uncle looked so proud. Another was of his company, outside the barracks a week before going overseas. Luke could count the faces one by one that hadn't returned, and he vividly remembered how each had died and what young recruit had been brought in to replace them. There were more than a few of him and Rob or Rob and the other guys, playing poker or messing around at base camp, dogtags hanging against tan t-shirts. More than a few pictures also held stains from mud and blood, ragged at the edges - especially one particular photo of the whole Duke family, taken by Cooter the day Luke graduated from high school. Luke smiled a little ata phototaken in Saigon, where he was sitting in a rickshaw - still unable to walk much on his own - and Rob was pulling him along with a grin. Behind that was a professional portrait of a younger Rob Fulton, his pretty wife and adolescent son, dressed in their best Sunday clothes. There were more besides that - these were all the pictures he had carried with him those twenty-two months, some taken beforehand, some developed during brief reprieves in the city. Underneath all the pictures sat a black velvet jewelry box. That was…

"Hey, cuz."

Luke snapped the box shut and looked up, to see Bo looking back at him. "Morning, Bo. Or, afternoon, now."

Bo smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. Guess I fell asleep after you left."

"How ya feelin'?"

"Better, though I wish I remembered what happened. I still think I was hit by a truck."

Luke sighed and shook his head. "It wasn't a truck that hit you, Bo, it was me."

"_You?_"

Luke quickly explained.

"Oh!" was Bo's response, "Well, that's the last time I make _you_ mad!" he joked with a grin. Then he noticed the box in Luke's hands. "Hey, what's that?"

"Oh, ah, just some pictures and things."

"Can I see?"

With no good excuse to refuse, Luke opened the box and handed Bo the assortment of photos. He kept the rest of it safely out of sight, though. Bo slowly looked through them, looking for his cousin's face in each one. He asked, hesitantly, about a couple of them - where were they, who was this man or that - and he missed none of the brown and red stains that marred the images. Luke pointed out Rob in the first couple, but was quiet after that. Bo stopped for a long time at the tattered picture of the Duke family. It had been rolled, folded, creased and crushed, but was lovingly resmoothed flat between the other pictures.

"Hey Luke?" Bo asked without looking up.

"Yeah, Bo?"

"How come you never told us?" When Luke was silent, he added, "I mean,eight years, it's a long time."

Luke sighed. He knew the question would be asked sooner or later - though he would have preferred later. "I guess…Bo, when I was out there…I just…I never wanted you, or Daisy, or Uncle Jesse to have anything to do with any of that. That was why I was out there, because I didn't want you ever to have to hear about it, or see it, or know about any of the things I'd seen, or done. You were all here, and that was there, and knowing you were safe was what…kept me going," he finished softly.

Bo nodded. He didn't entirely understand, but it helped to know that it wasn't just because Luke thought he was a kid.

"I ah, better go let the doctors know you're awake," Luke said, standing. He took the pictures back and put them in the box, tucking it safely under the chair before heading out.

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After being checked over again by another doctor, Bo was given a clean bill of health and released from the hospital, with a laundry list of instructions on how to take care of his stitches and what adverse symptoms to watch out for. Top on that list was no driving for several days, as long as dizziness or headache persists. The hospital bill bit a big chunk out of their cash supply, but they still had enough for travel expenses - Uncle Jesse had given them the entire remainder of that reward money, minus the $300 he'd paid to Boss. Luke and Bo had a few phone calls to make, though, before they left the hospital.

Bo's first call was to Uncle Jesse, who strangely enough didn't pick up. He tried the Boar's Nest instead and talked to Daisy, who was greatly relieved to hear from him. Jesse had told her about the incident at breakfast. She promised to let him know when she saw him, and gave Bo and Luke her love.

While Bo talked to Daisy, Luke found a phonebook and looked up the number to the management of the Arlington National Cemetery. He used another phone to call and get details on the time and location of his friend's funeral.

"_I'm sorry, Mr. Duke, but I've been asked to direct all inquiries to a Ms. Pauline Herschmen at the West Hotel in town._"

Luke scribbled down the number, then thanked the man and hung up. He dialed the hotel, and the front desk connected him to the room phone.

"_Hello, Pauline speaking._"

"Ah, hello, Miss Herschmen, this is Luke Duke…"

"_Oh! Luke! Dear, are you in town? Were you able to come?_"

"Well, we're in D.C., I think. The fella at the cemetery gave me your number there."

"_Oh, good! I'm so glad you're here, though I wish the circumstances were different._"

"Me too, ma'am."

"_Have you had lunch yet? Please, I'd like to meet you, it's my treat._"

Luke could hardly refuse. "No ma'am, we haven't eaten yet. My cousin Bo is with me."

"_Oh, he's welcome to come too, dear! Can you meet me at my hotel? There's a little place just down the road…_"

Luke took down directions from the kindly nurse and hung up, turning to his waiting cousin. "Ready to go?"

"Sure thing, where we goin'?"

"We've got a lunch date. Come on, I'll explain on the way."

**Now, remember friends, we've still got a funeral to get to, and a mighty somber one at that.**

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	6. Old Friends and New Acquaintances

**Author's Notes: Well, friends, I got towards the end of this chapter, and realized I better take a real close look at my timeline for some fairly important reasons. So, to explain: Earlier I figured on Luke exiting Vietnam in 1973, when major numbers of U.S. troops left the country, and a few chapters ago, I said that was nine years ago from present-day in the story. That would have this all taking place in June 1982. I totally didn't plan it that way, but March 1982 was the groundbreaking for the Vietnam War Memorial, in a neat coincidence. So, that should frame a few things for you. Enjoy!**

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**Chapter 6: Old Friends and New Acquaintances**

Back in Hazzard, Daisy had hardly hung up the phone and gone back to wiping tables down when it rang again. LouAnn Hobson, the one other waitress fit for duty at the Boar's Nest, answered it for her.

"Boar's Nest, LouAnn speaking…oh, Daisy, it's for you again…it's your Uncle Jesse."

Setting her washcloth on the bar, Daisy thanked her and took the phone. "Why hi, Uncle Jesse! What a coincidence, I just got off the phone with Bo!"

"_Now Daisy, I ain't got time to talk right now. I just needja ta come on down to the sheriff's department and bail me out._"

"Uncle Jesse! What happened?"

"_I'll explain when you get here. Hurry, now._"

In a matter of a few quick minutes, Daisy promised LouAnn to return before it got busy, and rushed out the door, taking off in Dixie and leaving a cloud of dust behind. It took all of her paycheck - two weeks' pay - to bail Jesse out, with Enos apologizing the whole time. Jesse was glad to hear her quick update on the boys, but it wasn't until they got outside that he told her about Rosco's summons and the charges against him.

"But Uncle Jesse, that's hogwash and you know it! Boss must have just made up that law!" Daisy protested as they stood on the sidewalk.

Jesse frowned and shook his head. "Now, that's what I thought too, so I had Enos bring me the state and county lawbooks, and I looked it up myself. They're in there, alright - what I figure is, J.D. just ain't had Rosco enforce them in Hazzard so he could do a little book cooking himself! _But_, that property assessment law also says that anyone found in violation has two business days to rectify it and to pay the difference in back taxes. Which means…"

"Which means we better get ahold of one of those state revenuers, and quick!" Daisy finished. "Let's go see if Cooter will let us use his phone!"

It was in fact fairly easy for Jesse to get through to the state revenuers' offices, and to convince one of them to come down from Atlanta right away for the property assessment. Of course, most of the men and women workin' in that office had cut their teeth as rookies trying to catch the Dukes back when they was runnin' 'shine, and Jesse was on a first name basis with every one of them. With a promise from Seamus Flynn to be at the Duke farm by two o'clock, Daisy went on back to work after giving Jesse a ride on back to the farm, so he could finish the chores that Rosco had so rudely interrupted.

**Now, I don't know about you, but when something goes easy for the Dukes, _I_ start to get _nervous_.**

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Pauline Herschmen, Luke explained to Bo as they found the highway, had been Rob Fulton's nurse at the hospice, since he'd moved there in November. The two older folks had grown to be very good friends during Rob's last few months, and it was often Pauline who read Luke's letters to Rob aloud, so she had heard quite a bit about Luke and Hazzard as well. From the picture from Christmas Rob sent - Luke had mailed him a care package with one of Daisy's peach cobblers - Pauline was an older woman, Uncle Jesse's age, with silver hair and the kind, soft face of a woman who loves her work.

"Y'know, I knew it was you who snookered that pie!" Bo jokingly accused. Daisy had tormented him for weeks, thinking it was him.

Luke grinned. "What can I say? 'Sides, you were gettin' a little tight at the belt there, I was doin' you a favor!"

After a bit of searching, they finally found the hotel and pulled up out front. Pauline had told Luke she'd wait in the lobby for them, so they headed inside. She recognized them before they even saw her.

"Luke! Oh, is that you?" she approached, looking much the same as her picture, except she was wearing a blue-flowered dress instead of the white uniform.

"Miss Herschmen?" Luke asked, but he hardly had to, as she stepped up and put her arms around him in a warm hug. He returned the embrace with closed eyes and a tight throat - here was a comrade to the pain in his heart. It was a full minute before the grandmotherly woman let go and stepped back, looking up and studying his pained face. "It's so good to finally meet you! And you're every inch as handsome as your pictures!" she added with a smile. Then she looked at Bo, who was standing there a bit awkwardly, thumbs in his pockets.

"And you must be Bo!" She gave him a hug as well. "Luke wrote so much about you! Looks like you take after him in more ways than one." Both boys looked to the floor, a mite embarrassed, but she took no notice. "So! Are we all set to go?"

"Yes ma'am, Miss Herschmen," Luke answered. "We can take our car, if you like, 'long as you don't mind climbing in through the windows." They walked together towards the exit.

"Please, Luke, call me Pauline. Oh! Is this the General Lee?" Pauline asked, stepping down the sidewalk towards the orange racecar.

"Yes, ma'am!" Bo answered proudly, while Luke stepped up to her side.

"Let me help you there, Pauline," he said, lifting her up and into the front seat.

Luke walked around to the driver's side, while Bo climbed in beside her with a friendly smile. Luke had spoken well of the nice old lady, and as far as Bo was concerned, anyone who bought him a meal was a friend until proven otherwise. With her directions, they set off down the road.

For a complete stranger and an elderly lady, Bo found he had a lot more to talk about with Pauline Herschmen than he had anticipated. On the drive and while waiting for their meal, she asked all about Uncle Jesse, Daisy, and Cooter, and seemed to know as much or more about the goings-on in Hazzard than Bo himself. Luke let him do a lot of the talking, but he couldn't help but speak up at a few points to add his own two cents. Then Bo reflected that all this pleasant conversation came from Luke's constant letters sent to make his dying friend smile, and Bo's enthusiasm was dampened a bit.

When they had all finished eating, though, Pauline turned to the matter at hand. "Now, Luke, are you and Bo staying somewhere nearby?"

"Well, we don't exactly have anywhere to stay, at the moment." Luke had already told Bo of their eviction from the motel.

"Oh, then you'll have to come back with me to the West and we'll get you a room there for the night. We're just a short drive from the main gate, and Ms. Summer is staying there as well."

"The Summers are here?" Luke asked, surprised. Bo was lost.

Pauline smiled a sad, pained smile. "Just Miss Jillian, Robert's niece."

"Oh. So…what time is…does everything start?"

She pulled a folded piece of paper out of her purse, with details, times, and directions, and handed it to Luke. "It's all there on that sheet. The ceremony begins at noon, but I'll be there at eleven."

Luke nodded silently with downcast eyes, and tucked the paper away. Pauline took his hands from across the table and smiled kindly at him. "Luke, dear, there was simply nothing more anyone could do for poor Robert. He went quietly and happy, and that's as much as he could ask for. You were there for him, with every word you wrote, and it was the best part of his day to hear from you. He wouldn't want you to hurt like this," she added. He looked back gratefully and gave a small smile. "Good lad. Now, let's get on back, and get you boys a room."

---------------------------

Once their belongings were settled, Pauline insisted on taking the boys out sightseeing for the afternoon. Bo was glad - she had an energy that kept Luke on his toes, and a compassionate kindness that understood exactly how he was feeling, without calling attention to it. She whisked them from sight to sight - the White House and the Capitol Building, the Mall and the Lincoln and Washington Memorials, and many more.

They paused at the construction site for the Vietnam War Memorial, and Luke stared at the torn earth and ragged fence line as she told them about the plans for the Wall. Rob had mentioned something about it in his letters, proud, but sad that it had taken so long. It was due to open in November, the sign said - Bo thought maybe another trip up here might be in order. He hadn't expected just the sights of all these monuments and dedications to have such an impact on his cousin, but Bo could see it by the look in Luke's eyes - the reverence, the respect, the sorrow. When they finally found the Marine Corps War Memorial, the six soldiers raising the flag at Iwo Jima, neither Bo nor Pauline missed Luke's long, shuddering breath as he looked up at the faces on the tall statue.

Pauline's tour wasn't all somber, though. The boys bought ice cream and found a few souvenir pictures for Daisy, and they all laughed to see a little boy chasing pigeons try to climb into the Reflecting Pool, much to his mother's dismay. Bo marveled at the city, the size and complexity as well as the senators and lawyers in suits striding purposefully along the sidewalks around the Capitol Building. He hoped for a glimpse of the President, but no such luck, though they did see a few men Luke was sure were Secret Service agents. Towards late afternoon, however, Bo's headache started to come back full force, and Pauline, the ever-watchful nurse, noticed him grow quiet.

"Bo, honey, is something wrong? You look a bit peaked, dear."

He touched a hand to the back of his head, where the stitches and bare patch were hidden by the rest of his hair. "I guess I'm just not feeling that well, Miss Pauline. I ah, kinda got a concussion yesterday." Last night? This morning? Close enough. He didn't elaborate on the cause.

"A concussion! Well, why don't we head back to the hotel then, so you can rest? It's nearly dinnertime in any case."

Bo had no arguments, and Luke's worry for his cousin sparked back as soon as Pauline spoke up, so they made their way back to the General and headed back over the river. At the hotel, the compassionate nurse didn't part ways with them in the lobby, but came right up to their room. Motherly, she gave Bo some aspirin from her purse with a glass of water, had a look at his stitches, and saw to it that he pulled off his boots and lay down on one of the beds.

"Now, I'm going to steal your cousin for a bit while you rest, young man. We'll be right upstairs in my room, 406, and we'll wake you up for dinner. You call us if you need anything."

Bo couldn't help but smile, leaning back on the pillow. Just being horizontal instead of vertical helped a great deal. "Yes ma'am!"

She turned the lights off, and ushered a surprised Luke out the door, shutting it behind them. "I'd like to talk to you for a bit, Luke, if you don't mind," Pauline asked kindly. "Not that you don't need to sleep as much as him, by the looks of it. He'll be alright for now," she added, seeing his worried glance at the door. "Come on, now. If it's been as hard a week for you as for me, I'd like to hear everything you didn't say with your cousin there."

**Y'know, this nice ol' gal reminds me a bit of Henry, the fella who works for the Hawkins back in Hazzard. Think they might be related?**

* * *


	7. The Force of Memories

**Author's Notes: Hoo-boy, this one's a doozy! My sincerest thanks to Flynne, Duke Fan 16, and McRaider for letting me borrow snippets of thier stories. See "Deadline", "A Pleasant Walk In the Woods?" and "My Brother's Keeper" for more of thiers. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 7: The Force of Memories**

J.D. Hogg was just sitting down to his early mid-afternoon snack – namely a rack of barbecued ribs and a side of hush puppies – when Rosco entered his office in the sheriff's department, looking (as usual) a mite confused.

"Hey Boss, I just seen the dangedest thing!" the sheriff said without prelude.

Boss looked up crossly – Rosco should know better than to interrupt his early mid-afternoon snack. "What is it, you peabrain? Did the doctor x-ray that thick skull of yours and actually find something in it?"

"Why, why no, Boss, I ain't been to the doctor in three months…"

"Rosco! Just spit it out!"

"Oh, well, oh! I just saw Jesse an' Daisy Duke leaving Cooter's garage, lookin' mighty happy about somethin', and I was thinkin', if the Dukes is happy after I arrested Jesse this mornin', then somethin' must be wrong."

"Well that's what you get for thinking, you dodo! I _know_ the Dukes just left Cooter's, 'cause my Maybelle already called me and let me know! She heard every word – Jesse Duke figured out the loophole in the law we arrested him for, and called on up to Seamus Flynn at the state revenue office to have him come down this afternoon. But Seamus Flynn ain't gonna make it!"

"Oh, he's not? How do you know?"

"Because _you're_ gonna go stop him! If he can't get to the Duke farm today, then he can't file that paperwork, and Jesse Duke goes to state prison!"

"And with him in jail…"

"With him in jail, _I_ can foreclose on the mortgage on the Duke farm, and sell if off at auction to the highest bidder – namely _me_!" Boss laughed at his own cleverness. "Now, get out there and cover the roads coming from Atlanta! I want you on one, that dipstick deputy of yours on the second, and, oh I don't know, throw down a bucket of glass and nails to keep him from coming in on the third! Just keep him away from the Duke farm!"

-------------------------------------------------------

It was 2:15pm, and Jesse Duke was frowning. It wasn't like Seamus Flynn to be late. Something must be wrong. He walked into the kitchen and tried Daisy on the CB.

"Shepard to Bo Peep, Shepard to Bo Peep, you gotcher ears on? Come on."

No answer. She was probably inside at work. Then the CB crackled to life.

"_Breaker breaker, Craaaazy Cooter comin' atcha there Shepard, somethin' goin' on?_"

"I'm not sure, Cooter. Seamus hasn't shown up yet, and I'm a little worried."

"_Well if that's all, Uncle Jesse, I can fix that for ya! I'm out here on the Hatchapee Road with Mr. Flynn right now, makin' tracks fer your place. Seems Mr. Flynn had a little tire trouble, on account of a line o' glass and nails laid across the road._"

"Now who would do a thing like that?"

Cooter looked in his rearview mirror to see Rosco pull into view, lights flashing and sirens wailing. "I'll give you three guesses, but you're only gonna need one! It's gonna take a bit to shake him, the way he's drivin'. We'll be at your place in a jiffy, Uncle Jesse. I'm gone." He hung up the mike and turned to his now-reluctant passenger. "You'd best put that seatbelt on, Mr. Flynn, this is gonna get rough!"

Cooter floored the gas and his tow truck roared off. Fortunately he hadn't towed Flynn's car along as well – he'd heard Jesse and Daisy's story earlier and understood the need for haste, so he'd offered to take Flynn straight there and to fix the tires while he was at the Duke farm. The heavy truck could only move so fast, though, with Rosco in hot pursuit close behind. It took all of Cooter's skill to keep Rosco from cutting him off or running him off the road, but he refused to be stopped. The sheriff was still breathing down his neck as he pulled off at the gate for the Duke farm, and parked right behind him in front of the farmhouse.

"That's it, Cooter Davenport! Freeeeze!" Rosco cried as Cooter and Flynn both climbed out of the truck.

Then Seamus Flynn stepped up to bat. "Sheriff, what is the meaning of this?.!" he demanded angrily., walking around the front of the truck.

Rosco lost his delighted expression, taken aback. Trying his best to look dignified, he answered, "The meaning of this is, I am arresting this miserable excuse for a mechanic for moving violations, reckless endangerment, and evading a police officer!"

"The only one being reckless out there was you!" Flynn retorted, "I've never seen such irresponsible driving from a sheriff! Why, Mr. Davenport was just doing his best to get me to an appointment on time, and it's getting later by the minute! Now, if you'll excuse us!" He turned and walked towards the front door, where Jesse stood waiting for him. Cooter smiled to Rosco before following him inside, leaving Rosco to sputter alone in the driveway.

-------------------------------

"Boss, I'm afraid I've got some bad news."

J.D. Hogg was in the middle of his late mid-afternoon snack at the Boar's Nest. He glared up at his sheriff, who held his hat in hand, and set the chicken drumstick down. "Oh yeah? What'd you do this time?"

"Well, Boss, ah, Cooter got away from me, and got Seamus Flynn to the Duke farm. He's going over the place with Jesse Duke right now."

Boss banged a drumstick-laden fist in the table. "Rosco! I thought I told you to keep him away from there?.!"

"Well, yeah, but, you did, and I, ah…"

"Nevermind!" Boss silenced him. "It don't make no matter anyways. Even with Flynn, Jesse Duke will _never_ be able to come up with that money by five o'clock Monday! And then _you_ can arrest him…"

"And the Duke farm is yours?"

"…And the Duke farm is mine!"

------------------------------------------

Seamus accompanied Jesse into town with the paperwork, to make sure everything went smoothly. Jesse wasn't worried about the paperwork, though. He was worried about the back taxes. Seamus was as fair a man as every worked for the state, and Jesse couldn't argue with his assessment, but the final value of the property came out much higher than it had been back when Jesse first took out that mortgage from Boss Hogg nigh twenty-five years ago, to pay for the funerals for three brothers and their wives. Between the indoor plumbing, the higher crop yields, and the many improvements Bo and Luke had made to the house and barn over the years, the Duke farm was worth half again what Jesse had claimed on his taxes all these years, and that left a mighty big sum to pay.

The clerk in the county offices confirmed this. "That leaves a grand total of $16,070.84, Jesse," he said, after studying Jesse's tax forms and running some calculations. "Three-quarters of it goes to the state, and the rest, to the county." He handed Jesse a form summarizing the figures with a meek expression. Like every man in Hazzard, he knew just what sort of scams Boss Hogg ran, and how the Dukes usually ended up on the short end of it – but he couldn't risk his own job to say anything.

"Thank you, Sam," Jesse said, looking over the form. Where on earth would he get sixteen thousand dollars by Monday? Flynn put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Well, Seamus, we better get you over to Cooter's to get your car. Thank you for your help."

"I just wish I could do more, Jesse," the revenuer apologized.

* * *

Luke quietly opened the door to the room, stepped in, and shut it behind him with a soft click. He didn't want to disturb his sleeping cousin, and he didn't particularly want to be seen. His eyes were red and puffy, his neck and shoulders ached, and he felt so completely drained that curling up under a rock and sleeping seemed like a real good idea just now. No such luck, though. 

"Izzatchoo, Luke?" came Bo's sleepy voice through the darkened room, muffled by his pillow.

"Yeah, it's me. Go on back to sleep, you don't have to get up yet."

Bo stretched and sat up, switching on the lamp. "Nah, I'm up. What time is it?"

Luke came out of the bathroom, flicking water off his face and hands. "A little after six. You hungry?"

Bo grinned and found his boots. "Do you even need to ask?" Evidently he was feeling better, too.

"How 'bout that diner again for dinner?" Luke opened up the room safe and pulled a few more bills from their dwindling supply, folding them and tucking them in his pocket.

"Sounds great!"

---------------------------------

Luke was quiet over dinner, but then again, Luke had been quiet all day, so Bo didn't really see any change. Their waitress was an older woman with a tired look and a wedding ring, so the blond had no one to flirt with. Instead, he commented on some of the sights they'd seen that day, while Luke gave short replies here and there as needed. Bo was working on finishing off his French fries when a question occurred to him.

"So, what'd Pauline want, anyhow?"

"Oh, just to talk," Luke shrugged. He was still working on his burger, and slowly at that.

" 'bout what?"

"This and that."

Bo knew when he was being blown off, so he stopped questioning and looked down at his plate, intent on his food. Luke noticed and sighed.

"Look, Bo, there's some things I just can't talk about, especially not now. It's nothing against you - you know I trust you with my life, even. Alright?"

Bo looked up, slightly mollified. "Yeah, I guess."

After dinner, they were walking back out to the car when Bo suggested driving back across the river, to see the Mall again. The sunlight was fading, and Pauline had said the monuments were brilliant at night, lit up against the black night air. He was surprised when Luke readily agreed, and climbing into the car, they were off.

At the Mall, they strolled along amiably as night settled in, watching the activity around them, passersby and tourists. A Japanese family asked Luke to take their picture at the Lincoln Memorial, brightly lit despite the dark. Bo caught the eyes of a group of college girls on vacation after graduation, and they stopped and talked for a little while. Eventually Luke prodded him and motioned that they had to go. The girls pouted at their departure, but soon found something else to laugh about once the boys had left. That was when Bo noticed how tired Luke looked, and remembered that while he had slept half the day, Luke had spent the morning worried at his bedside in the hospital, and that Luke had agreed to come out here at his request. He stopped and affected a yawn.

"Hey Luke, why don't we go on back? We've got a long day tomorrow, an' I'm still kinda tired."

Here came Luke's worried eyes again. "Sure, Bo," he agreed, looking his cousin over. He didn't look that tired, but Luke wasn't about to refuse.

-------------------------------------

Back at the hotel, neither Bo nor Luke wasted any time getting ready for bed, brushing teeth, and saying goodnight. Luke set the wake-up call for 9:30am, just in case. Bo found some more aspirin – he'd packed it for Luke, actually – and then both boys were in bed. Luke was sound asleep in minutes, Bo not long after, though neither slept soundly for long.

* * *

_Luke was running through the jungle, rifle in hand, helmet strapped under his chin. His comrades were fanned out to the left and right, pursuing a fleeing enemy after a brief skirmish. He knew it was a dream – he was almost used to these kinds of dreams by now, if a man can get used to reliving a nightmare. He knew it was an ambush, but he could shout no warning. At the treeline, enemy fire erupted from the tall grass in the field, halting the Marine charge. The air was hot and thick with gunfire, screams, smoke, blood. Luke raised the rifle to his shoulder and fired, hitting his target once and again. One man less to fire back._

_There was a rumbling sound to his left – that was new. He turned and saw a truck coming up the road, a green troop transport truck, with a familiar driver at the wheel in a red cap. The mines! Luke's scream was drowned out by the explosion as the mines he'd buried on the road a week ago tore the truck and driver apart. He turned back to the field at another shout that caught his ear, and saw Daisy running across the field towards him. Then he heard the whine of the planes approaching, and Luke watched in horror as it burst into a wall of napalm fire, Daisy somewhere within it. Then he was running, running back through the trees. Oh God, oh God. He tripped and went sprawling, and turned to see he'd tripped over a green-fatigued body. Luke crawled up and turned the body over, and it was Bo, his honey-blond hair oozing with blood, his blue eyes never to open again. A hand touched Luke's shoulder, and he looked up - it was Rob._

_"It's alright, Luke," Rob said._

_Then a rumbling shook the jungle, and a great gash opened up in the earth at Rob's feet, swallowing him whole. The earth closed again, and the gunfire and shouts resumed, and Luke was truly alone._

* * *

Same as the night before, Bo woke when he heard his cousin talking, calling in his sleep. In the dim moonlight peering through the blinds, Bo could see him tossing about, and a knot of pain formed in the younger Duke's stomach. Luke had made him promise not to try to wake him again, no matter what, and it killed Bo to lie there and listen to his older cousin's suffering without doing something. He forced himself to lay still and close his eyes, to go back to sleep, and he nearly succeeded when he heard another odd sound. He sat up and looked over again. Luke was still now, his back to Bo, curled in a tight ball, and he shook with shuddering breaths.

That was it. Bo pushed aside the light blankets and got up, walking around both beds to peer down at his cousin. "Luke?" he asked softly.

His thoughts were confirmed when Luke looked up at him with tear-flooded eyes, quiet sobs renewing at the sight of his younger cousin. Bo sat down at the edge of his bed and pushed aside the pillow, sliding in behind Luke in its place and gathering his cousin into his arms. Luke relaxed against him and sobbed harder as Bo held him tight, his back to Bo's chest. He clutched Bo's protective arms, for something to hold onto, and Bo could feel wet tears running off Luke's cheek onto his skin. Bo closed his eyes, listening to the tormented sounds while a hundred memories ran through his mind.

* * *

_**Bo, age 3**_

_Luke watched his cousin from across the yard as the small boy of three years old ran around by the chickens clapping his hands and trying to scare them off. Uncle Jesse had told him a million times not to play with the chickens or he could get hurt, but Bo never listened to anyone, even at three years old._

_"Bo quite torturin' the chickens!" Luke called out to his youngest cousin. It wasn't until he heard his cousin's scream of terror that Luke whipped around to see his cousin being chased by the family goat Bill. "Bill no!" screamed Luke as he rushed towards his young cousin, the three year old tripped over a root sticking out of the ground and began to sob openly, screaming out Luke's name._

_Luke zipped over to his younger cousin, grabbing the boy as hard as he could and covering him as the goat rammed right into Luke's back. Luke cried out in pain, as his cousin beneath him continued to scream and cry._

_Katie came from the house stunned, "Dear God," she ran over to the goat and quickly grabbed him, roughly pulling him away from the two crying little boys. Luke was protecting his cousin with all he had, as he cried, and he had long gashes down his back from the goat's horns._

------------------------------------------------------------

_**Bo, age 6**_

_It was well past midnight when Luke woke up to the sound of sniffling from Bo's bed._

_"'Smatter Bo?" he asked, rubbing his eyes as he sat up._

_"I had's a nightmare." Bo said. Luke yawned. Tossing his covers off slightly, he patted the bed next to him. A second later, Bo was curled up in a ball against Luke. Throwing the covers over him and Bo, he wrapped his arm protectively around Bo. The young boy sniffled as he leaned into his cousin for warmth and protection._

_"Luke?"_

_"What?"_

_"I's scared."_

_"I'll protect ya."_

_"Promise?"_

_"Promise. Now get some sleep." Luke said._

------------------------------------------------------------

_**Bo, age 22**_

_Bo was cold. At that moment, it seemed to him that he had never been so cold in his life. The green and white water was tearing past him, pulling constantly on his body, bleeding his strength away with every passing second. His arms were burning fiercely and his chest ached as he struggled to breathe. The chill of the water hit him like a kick to the chest, and it was getting harder and harder for him to hold his head above the racing torrent. _I can't do this much longer… _Fear wrapped his pounding heart in a grip even tighter and colder than the water that tumbled over him._

_"Bo!"_

_The voice seemed to come from far away._

_"Bo!"_

_"L-L-Luke?" With great effort, Bo lifted his head and saw his cousin looking down at him._

_Luke felt a rush of relief as he finally came alongside Bo and felt his cousin's hands beneath his chilled fingers. He reached out and slid his hands under Bo's arms. "Bo, you're gonna—gonna have to let go!" he said. Bo squeezed his eyes closed and didn't answer. "Bo, come on!" Luke urged. "I gotcha…grab onto me, put your arms around my neck." In a sudden moment of fear, Luke thought that Bo might be too frightened—or too far gone—to listen._

_Bo was frightened. The cold water had left him weakened and numb, and his mind felt sluggish. He could barely feel Luke's arms around him. If he budged an inch, he knew he'd fall. How could Luke possibly hold him up? But his cousin was telling him to let go, and Bo trusted him implicitly. With a sudden burst of strength, he tore his left arm away from the branch and flung it over Luke's shoulder._

_For one terrifying instant, Luke was afraid that he couldn't hold on to him, but Cooter and Jud lowered him down a few more inches and he was able to slide his hands all the way beneath Bo's arms and behind his back. He clasped his hands together, locking his cousin in the strong circle of his arms._

_"That's it, Bo," Luke said encouragingly. "One more, you can do it." Bo didn't hesitate this time. He let go of the tree entirely and wrapped his other arm around Luke's neck. Luke felt the strain in his water-chilled muscles as he bore Bo's full weight around his shoulders, but he clenched his jaw and held onto his cousin like grim death._

_"He's got 'im, Jud!" Cooter crowed. "Pull 'em up, quick!"_

* * *

And now Luke needed him. "Shhh, Luke. It's alright. I'm here. I'm right here."

* * *


	8. Saying Goodbye

**Author's Notes: Alrighty, this one's one heck of a long chapter. Jordyn, for you I was extra careful to get my facts straight on both dress and ceremony, though the ceremony's about 90 percent right - having never been to a funeral, particularly not an Arlington funeral, it's hard to get it perfect, despite all my research. But, close enough. Also, I included the lyrics to Montgomery Gentry's "Didn't I" at the very end of this chapter, since they just wouldn't go away until I did, and it seemed fitting anyhow. Oh, yes, and no offense meant to any self-proclaimed hippies out there - the context is a little edgy, and frankly I think I qualify as a hippy myself, or so my brother says. Nor do I intend any commentary at any point on present war circumstances, so don't bloody well take it that way, unless you take from it the lesson to treat the soldiers well even if you protest the war. Anyhow, until next time, Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 8: Saying Goodbye**

Luke opened his eyes to the soft morning light filling the hotel room. He lay still for a moment, cobwebs of sleep clearing out of his mind. He still lay in Bo's arms, though his younger cousin was now sound asleep. Luke didn't know how long he'd cried before fading into an exhausted sleep, but the rest of the night had passed without dream or nightmare. Carefully, he picked himself up and eased away from Bo, who slept sitting up against the headboard, undisturbed. Luke might have been embarrassed, or ashamed, but for remembering Pauline's words the day before, and instead he looked on his slumbering cousin with fond appreciation for his care.

It was just after nine, so Luke cancelled the wake-up call and ordered room service for breakfast. He might as well have something in his stomach for the service. The smell of hot coffee, fresh toast and eggs was enough to stir Bo, and he stretched and stood as Luke set the delivered platter down on the small table in the corner.

"Morning," Luke greeted him, sitting in one of the two chairs.

"Morning," Bo returned, yawning and pouring himself some coffee.

"Look, ah…thank you, Bo," Luke said earnestly.

Bo wasn't sure what reaction he'd been expecting, but it wasn't that. He smiled and pulled up the other chair. "Any time, cuz." And that was the end of it.

When Bo had finished breakfast, he stood and gestured towards the bathroom. "You want first shower?" he asked.

Luke was still working on his, and he shook his head, swallowing. "Nah, go ahead."

Bo had the hot shower running, bathroom door closed, by the time Luke finished eating. He was sitting there, sipping coffee and thinking, when a knock came at the door. Luke answered it, gratefully accepting the delivery, and closed the door behind him, setting the items down on the floor next to his suitcase. Bo emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, one towel wrapped around his waist and another in his hand, drying his hair and his stitches carefully. The swollen lump was nearly gone, and he wondered how long it would be before he could convince Luke to let him drive again.

"Did I hear a knock at the door?"

"Yeah, just Pauline dropping off some things for me." Luke gathered his things and headed into the bathroom while Bo started pulling clothes out of his suitcase.

A half-hour later, Bo was slumped in a chair, hair neatly combed and dressed in his best blue suit and tie, wondering just what on earth was taking Luke so long. It was 10:23, by the clock on the wall, and Luke had said he wanted to leave by 10:30.

"You okay in there, buddy?" Bo called.

"Be out in just a minute," Luke answered through the bathroom door.

"You take any longer, we'll have to change your name to Daisy!" Bo teased.

Luke opened the door and stepped out, just then, brushing himself off in a nervous gesture. Bo was wide-eyed with surprise at the sight. His older cousin was dressed to the letter in a blue Marine dress uniform – a crisp dark blue jacket with a high starched collar, red trimmings, and brass buttons, a pair of blue trousers with a bright red bloodstripe on each leg, polished black dress boots, white gloves. A white belt with a gleaming buckle wrapped around the jacket just below his ribs, and his hair was neatly combed and slicked back under his white cap. A rank insignia patch graced each shoulder, and two ribboned medals hung on his chest.

Bo whistled and grinned. "Look at you! You'd have half the girls in Hazzard and Chickasaw chasin' after you in that thing!" He stood to take a closer look while Luke smiled at his comment. Yes, the ladies sure did love a man in uniform, he remembered.

"Pauline…cleaned it up for me," he explained. In fact he'd wanted to chuck the whole thing a long time ago, when he took his belongings out of storage at the base to pack for the final journey home, but Rob had taken it instead, along with a crate of other items. "You'll want them some day," Rob had told him, not knowing that 'some day' would be his own funeral.

Bo picked up the ribboned medals one at a time. One, he recognized – it was a sharpshooter's medal, which Luke had sent home to Bo from the base before shipping out. He frowned when he looked at the other – he recognized it too, but not because Luke had ever shown one to him. The ribbon was purple with white stripes at each edge, and the golden metal was shaped into a heart, with a polished purple interior and the unmistakable profile of George Washington at the center. Bo looked up in confusion.

"A Purple Heart? Is it yours?"

Luke nodded. He had expected this, when he pulled it out of the black velvet case and pinned it on. "I told you, Rob saved my life more than once."

"You were shot?.!" Now Bo was wide-eyed with another kind of shock. Luke might have done some dangerous things, and the whole family had worried about him when he was overseas, but Bo never knew how close he'd been to never coming home.

Luke nodded again, and placed a hand on his lower right ribs, just above the white belt. "We were…" he cleared his throat, nervous to finally tell his younger cousin. He owed Bo an explanation, though. "We were ambushed, in the jungle at the edge of a field. There was a sniper, got three of us before Rob spotted him and took him out. He'd been hit in the leg by shrapnel in the fighting, but he carried me the whole way back in the retreat, said he couldn't live with himself if he left me behind. When I survived the night at the field hospital, they sent me to a hospital in the city, and I spent four months there recovering. By the time I was healed, they were pulling troops out all over the place, and they sent me and Rob and the rest of the platoon home. They gave me this in the hospital, in honor of my sacrifice, they said. I figure I owe it to Rob to wear it this once."

This time the tears were in Bo's eyes as he hugged his cousin. Luke hugged him back, and patted his back. "Come on, we'd better get going."

If Luke was nervous about showing his uniform to his cousin, he was outright anxious about walking around in public in it. He wasn't ashamed of his service with the Marines by any means, but he remembered too well the reception he got when he last wore his uniform stateside, and he didn't look forward to a repeat. With every person they passed, Luke would look down or away, brushing at a wrinkle or a bit of lint self-consciously.

It was one of these moments, as they walked through the lobby, that Bo spotted a slim figure in a shapely royal blue dress suit, with a large-brimmed blue hat to match. A black ribbon was tied around the hat, matching the black leather belt at her rather shapely waist. He looked on appreciatively, smiling, when she turned around, apparently looking for someone. She had a petite nose and fine features, but he was taken aback when her ice blue eyes darkened at the sight of him and Luke, and her lip curled a bit with disgust. Throwing her nose in the air with a sniff, she turned and headed out the front doors. Bo shrugged – it didn't look like Luke had even noticed – and they continued outside to the hotel parking for the General.

For all that they were headed for a funeral, Bo thought Luke seemed much better this morning – more his calm, collected old self. He was still quiet, but the creases of worry had vanished from his brow, and the distracted brooding look was gone. He caught Bo looking over at him once on the drive, and gave his younger cousin a small but reassuring smile.

They pulled into the parking lot at the cemetery administrative building at exactly 11am. The General drew a few curious looks, as usual. Bo was surprised to see the blue-garbed woman from the hotel standing among the handful of people gathering on the grass, and further surprised to see her eyes narrow coldly again as she scrutinized the orange car and its occupants. As they climbed out and walked towards the gathering – Pauline among them – Bo overheard the strange woman comment to the man standing beside her, "Figures. A redneck leatherneck."

Pretty lady or not, Bo wasn't going to take such comments about his kin lying down. He strode up to her angrily, Luke close behind. "Listen lady, I don't know who you are or what your problem is, but if you've got something to say you'd better say it now!" Bo challenged hotly. Luke put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back.

"Bo, drop it," he warned.

"No, Luke! That's the second time I've seen this woman, and the second time she's looked at us like we're something she wiped off her shoe! You got a problem with country boys, lady?.!"

This time Luke grabbed Bo's arm and physically dragged him backwards, before the woman answered. Once they were out of range of the others, Luke stopped and looked Bo in the eye.

"She wasn't looking at _you_, she was looking at _me_. That's Jillian Summer, Rob's niece on his wife's side. The Summers disowned him, and his wife and son, when he went to war, remember? They were as anti-war as anyone could get," he explained.

"That don't give her the right to treat us, or you, like that!" Bo glared in the woman's direction.

Luke sighed. Bo didn't understand, and now wasn't the time to tell him. Fortunately, Pauline rescued him.

"Luke, Bo!" she called as she walked over. She'd seen the whole exchange, and guessed the reason. "Oh, you look so sharp!" she complimented Luke as he turned. "Now, there's some friends of yours over there, who'd like to say hello, Luke."

He took a closer look in that direction, saw a couple of men in dress uniforms similar to Luke's, talking together, and he smiled to recognize them. These were older versions of two of the fellows in the pictures he'd shown Bo, and he was glad they'd come – Rob had little enough family to pray for him as it was.

"Go on!" Pauline shooed, and as Luke set in that direction, she turned to Bo. "Bo, honey, would you be a dear and walk an old lady up to the visitor's center?"

Anger momentarily forgotten, he smiled and offered his arm. "Yes ma'am!" They set off towards the buildings up the path, and Bo glanced back to see Luke shaking hands with his fellow Marines. Though he wanted to get back quickly, Pauline set a slow pace, and he forced himself to match.

"Now, how have you been, dear?" she asked, holding his arm.

"Me?" Bo was bewildered at the question. "I'm fine! I've just been worried about Luke. He's had a pretty hard time with all this," he explained.

"This brings up a lot of hard memories for him," Pauline agreed.

Bo didn't ask how she knew. It was strange to think that a complete stranger knew more about his cousin than he did. "He's had nightmares somethin' fierce."

She stopped and looked up at him. "Yes, he told me what happened Thursday night."

"Yeah, he said I can't wake him up like that again." They continued walking.

"No, certainly not. That was actually quite common for a lot of veterans coming back – and no wonder! Robert shared some of his experiences with me, in the last few months. But he told me, the trick is, if he ever had a nightmare like that, to knock on the bed, or even shake his foot if I needed to, to wake him. Oh! Here we are, dear. Now, just wait right here, if you will, I'll be right out."

Bo waited, cooling his impatience, as Pauline went into the ladies' room in the visitor's center. He had a feeling he'd be doing a lot of waiting today. When she came back out, though, he had a question for her. He asked as they strolled back towards the gathering.

"Miss Pauline, what's the deal with that Summer woman?" He explained the earlier incidents, and Luke's reaction. "I don't get it. He'd never put up with that back home!"

The kindly nurse patted his arm sympathetically. "Bo, tell me, back in Hazzard, how did people react when Luke came home?"

Bo thought back. "Well, everyone was real glad, happy he'd survived and was back home again. Me an' Daisy an' Uncle Jesse were real proud, too."

"That's wonderful, dear. But, not everyone in the country thought that way, when men like Luke came home…"

"What, you mean like those hippies and protestors on TV? So what?"

"Well, them, but other folks too. Some people blamed the soldiers for the war, and when those soldiers returned, not everyone was lucky enough to have as supportive a family and town as yours. Men were spit on, cursed, called horrible names in bus stations and as they stepped off the airplanes, and worse."

"Even Luke?" Bo looked in his cousin's direction as they approached. Luke was speaking with a man in a chaplain's vestments. He couldn't imagine anyone in Hazzard treating Luke like that.

"Yes, I imagine so. And, to answer your question, Miss Summer also has a particular reason for hating Luke, because of his close friendship with Robert. I imagine she doesn't even want to be here, but for the reading of the will. Oh! It looks like they're ready to get started."

The information sheet Pauline had given Luke explained that the visitors were to meet the hearse in the parking lot, and then the funeral procession would gather and drive to the burial site from there. The black vehicle was now waiting, and the gathering of friends and colleagues to Staff Sergeant Robert T. Fulton were dispersing towards their own cars. Pauline took her leave, and Bo joined up with Luke, heading back to the General. They drove along in somber silence, Bo thinking on what Pauline had told him.

The hearse stopped at the curb below a rolling hill of green, with neat rows of white stone markers stretching as far as the eye could see. An escort of eight waited there, pallbearers in full Marine dress uniform, and another rank of uniformed Marines waited with rifles at their shoulders, one with a brass bugle in his hand. While the dozen-odd observers exited their cars, the pallbearers opened the hearse and removed the polished silver casket. The chaplain led the way along the paths between the stone markers, followed by a Marine officer, the uniformed escort and their sad burden, the armed Marines, then Luke, Bo with Pauline on his arm, and the rest. It was unsettlingly quiet, an otherwise bright and sunny day with a fair breeze sweeping off the river.

At the gravesite, the pallbearers carefully set the casket in place, and the group of observers took solemn positions at the lower end, while the chaplain moved to the upper end. The escort brought forth a broad American flag and the eight pallbearers held it stretched over the casket. As the chaplain began to speak, Bo looked up at Luke, who was listening and watching with a faraway look in his eyes. Bo looked back at the flag, red and white stripes with the blue star field, thinking about this new meaning to add to all the symbolism he'd known as a child. Honor, freedom, pride, home, family, it sang, but now also pain, and fear. He snapped his attention back to the chaplain.

"…And so as we commend unto the earth the body of our dear friend and brother, Robert Thomas Fulton, we commend his soul unto God and heaven, that he may know peace in the arms of our Lord, amen," the chaplain finished, the observers echoing quiet 'amen's. He looked at the solemn gathering. "I understand there is a friend of Robert here who would like to say a few words."

Bo looked up with surprise as Luke stepped forward, walking around the pallbearers to the chaplain's side, with a quiet thank you. He cleared his throat and looked over the faces waiting expectantly – the two Marines of his platoon, who'd shown up so unexpectedly, Ted Hopkins, who'd worked with Rob at the hardware store back home, Jillian Summer and her fiancé, with bored dispassionate expressions, Pauline, sad tenderness in her eyes as she gazed at the coffin, and Bo, with a hint of a proud smile. Then Luke spoke.

"As many of you know, I served with Rob for two years overseas. He was a great man, a great Marine, and a great friend to every man in the company." The two retired Marines nodded agreement. "But more than that, Rob was a loving father, and a devoted husband, who loved his family and his country with all his heart." Only Bo's ears caught the derisive sniff over his shoulder. "I asked him once, why he joined the Marines, why he returned to fight for two more years after serving his first term. He said to me, 'Luke, what kind of husband, or father, or man would I be, if I stayed home and let some other boy take my place? How could I stand with God in Heaven if I didn't stand tall on earth?' Rob, I hope you stand with God now…" Luke's voice broke, "Because if you don't, He's got some explaining to do. I'm…" he paused again, tears trickling down his face, and down the faces of all but two of the gathered friends, "I'm proud to have called you my friend, and I know I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for you. Goodbye, Rob." Luke stepped back, and the chaplain touched his shoulder briefly before he slipped back to join Bo again. He didn't try to wipe away the tears.

The chaplain moved to stand next to the Marine officer, who signaled the riflemen. The seven riflemen presented arms and fired three short blasts. Salute complete, the bugler raised his instrument and played a solemn 'taps'. With every inch of honor and decorum, the pallbearers folded the flag lengthwise in quarters, then folded down one corner and wrapped the remaining length in a crisp triangle. The flag bearer turned and presented the flag to the chaplain, who saluted in turn. Then the chaplain stepped out to the gathered mourners, and presented the flag not to Jillian Summer, the technical next of kin, but to Lucas K. Duke, whose shock was evident as he accepted it and saluted.

"On behalf of the President of the United States, a grateful nation, and a proud Marine Corps, this flag is presented as a token of our appreciation for the honorable and faithful service rendered by Robert Thomas Fulton to his country and Corps," the chaplain intoned.

Then the Marine officer stepped forward and saluted Luke, offering his condolences. Then, stepping back, he called an order, and the pallbearer escort filed out, followed by the riflemen and the bugler. The services ended, and the mourners turned to head towards their cars. Bo put an arm around Luke, who was staring down at the flag in his hands.

"Come on, cuz. Time to go."

The Duke cousins trailed the rear of the exiting mourners. When they reached the cars waiting at the curb, there was a stranger speaking with the chaplain, who pointed in their direction. Briefcase in hand, the stranger walked up, a neat brown moustache below glasses and thinning hair.

"Mr. Duke?" he asked. Bo correctly assumed he meant Luke.

"Yes sir?" Luke asked, still a bit shell-shocked.

"My name is Hank Rainey, I'm Mr. Fulton's lawyer…I'm sorry to have to come find you at a time like this."

Luke shook his head. "It's alright, Mr. Rainey. What can I do for you?"

"Well, Mr. Duke, Robert requested that you be present at the reading of his will. Ms. Summer has been rather…uncooperative in my attempts to contact you, and I wanted to personally make sure you were notified."

"If Rob asked for me to be there, I will. Where and when is the reading?"

"Actually, it's, ah, tomorrow afternoon."

"On a _Sunday_?" Bo interrupted.

"Ah, yes, I believe Ms. Summer personally arranged for a judge to be available, as she, ah, leaves for California Monday morning. We'll meet Judge Chambers at the district courthouse, at three o'clock tomorrow afternoon."

"Is it a problem if Bo comes too?" Luke indicated his cousin.

"Oh, no, not at all. You'll come, then?" Luke nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Duke!" The lawyer shook his hand, and they parted ways.

Two more figures waited for Bo and Luke near the General. It was the two Marines, who both greeted Luke with handshakes that turned into hugs and complimented him in gravelly voices on his eulogy, before they noticed Bo standing there. Luke stepped back and introduced him. The tall, bear-like man with short red hair and a red moustache was Brock, and the shorter, leaner fellow with scruffy black hair was Eric. They had been the only men Pauline had been able to find addresses for, and though they hadn't been as close to Rob as Luke had been, they had made the trip from their home states just as the Dukes had.

"Luke," Brock said after introductions had been made all around, "Me an' Eric were gonna go have a few beers and catch up, y'know, for old time's sake. You an' your cousin want to come?"

Luke turned to Bo, who shrugged noncommittally. Bo hoped he'd say yes, to give Luke something more positive to do than brood all afternoon, but Bo wouldn't push him either way. Then Luke turned back to Brock. "Sure, sounds good. Just let us run back to the hotel, so we can change."

The men both smiled - their starched collars chafed as well. "Where are you staying? We'll just meet you there."

Luke gave them directions to the West Hotel, and they parted ways.

**-----------------------------------------**

Bo was surprised to find it was hardly 1pm when they left Arlington National Cemetery behind. It didn't take long to reach the hotel, and he decided to give Uncle Jesse and Daisy a call to update them on things.

"You go on up, I'll be there in a few," he told Luke in the lobby, heading for the payphones.

The phone call was longer than he expected. Jesse told Bo all about the charges against him and the amount of the back taxes owed. So far he, Daisy, and Cooter had called in every favor and debt owed to them, scraped together every dime, but it didn't amount to more than a few hundred dollars.

"What are we gonna do, Uncle Jesse?" Bo asked plaintively, "We can't let Boss put you in jail!"

"_I don't know, Bo. Me and Daisy are gonna ask around tomorrow after church, see if there isn't something we can come up with, but I just don't think anyone around here has that kind of money to lend. When are you boys gonna be home?_"

"Well, I'm not sure, exactly. We've got something here tomorrow at three, an' I'll bet Luke will want to leave right after that, once he hears about this."

"_Alright, keep me updated. Take care, Bo._"

"You too, Uncle Jesse. 'Bye."

Bo hung up and made his way to the stairs, frowning in thought. By the time he reached the door to the room, he decided Luke _wasn't_ going to hear about this - at least, not until he'd had some time to relax a little. No sense worrying him all over again.

In the room, Luke was already changed into his more comfortable jeans and blue plaid shirt, the dress uniform neatly folded and placed carefully with the folded flag on the breakfast table. Bo hurried to change, while Luke idly watched something on ESPN about the next day's NASCAR race. Bo was just pulling his boots on when there was a knock at the door - it was Eric and Brock.

Taking the General Lee and Brock's truck, the boys made their way to a bar on the outskirts of the city recommended by Brock - a popular hangout for off-duty military personnel from the nearby bases. Bo found himself in the company of giants as they found a table in a corner and ordered up a round, surrounded by fierce, tattooed and muscular Marine Corps and Naval noncoms. He didn't relish getting into a bar fight in this place. The waitress smiled sweetly, though, and soon he was lost in the three Marines' conversation.

They recounted old tales and traded new ones, laughing uproariously or falling quiet when Rob's name came up. Luke told a few stories of him and Bo's adventures in Hazzard, and Brock immediately launched into a series of stories from the old days. Bo choked on his beer, once or twice, at the pranks Luke had pulled around both barracks and base camp, and the ways Rob Fulton had managed to get him out of trouble when he was caught. It never occurred to Bo that Luke was one of the youngest in his company when he first joined, or that Luke's rebellious sense of adventure might come out in the form of snakes placed in the CO's bunk. Bo heard the tale, again, of the day Luke's parachute didn't open on a HALO jump, and how another Marine saved him from certain death. Luke stopped Brock just short, however, of describing his more amorous adventures overseas in rather personal detail. Bo grinned - apparently Dukes left behind a trail of broken hearts no matter what country they were in.

Thus the afternoon passed quickly, and the early summer sun was setting when Luke wrapped things up, declining the bar food for dinner and hoping for something a little more filling. He traded addresses with the good-natured Marines, promising to write, and left in search of a new restaurant for dinner.

--------------------------------------

When they finally returned to the hotel, Luke decided to make an early night of it. He had enough thoughts running through his mind to write a book, and he just wanted a little peace and quiet. Bo, on the other hand, was intent on staying up for a while, so he pulled out the now much beat-up car magazine and read back through a couple of the articles again by lamplight while Luke settled into bed. Bo wasn't sure what he was waiting for to happen tonight, but he'd be danged if he was gonna sleep through it. After a few minutes, he could hear Luke's breathing settle out into the regular rhythm of sleep, and Bo went right on reading, glancing over at him every few paragraphs.

--------------------------------------

_Luke was driving in the General Lee down a long dirt road, lined by broad fields and the occasional patch of trees or grazing cows. It might have been Hazzard, for all that he was dressed in his regular clothes and driving the General, but he knew that it wasn't. In fact, he'd never been here before, he was sure._

_Up ahead on the right, a house came into view. It was a large, two-story ranch, painted a creamy tan with a broad front porch. Something made Luke stop as he came along in front of it. He cut the engine and half-climbed out, sitting on the window frame and watching the scene before him. Up on the porch, a teenage boy with freckles and a shock of unruly sandy brown hair sat strumming on an acoustic guitar in a white wicker chair. Beside him in a long porch swing sat a pretty middle-aged woman with the same sandy brown hair, in the arms of a smiling dark-haired man. Luke smiled at the sight. It was Rob, the Rob of the family portrait taken before he joined the Marines, with his wife and son, all happily together again. They didn't see Luke, and Luke didn't call their attention. Let them enjoy their time together again. He climbed back into the General and drove on his way._

-------------------------------------

Bo was starting to get tired, the words on the page becoming harder to read, when he looked over at Luke and saw that content smile on his sleeping features. Bo smiled himself, set the magazine down, and switched off the lamp, no longer worried.

* * *

**Montgomery Gentry - "Didn't I"**

**Didn't I make you proud  
Go and lay my life down  
When you called my name?  
I thought I stood for something  
Was doing the right thing when I went away.  
Now being back should be so simple,  
But I keep getting mixed signals from everyone.  
Why do people sit and judge me  
Who I ain't seen what I seen or did what I've done? **

Didn't I burn, didn't I bleed enough for you?  
I faced your fears,  
Felt pain so you won't have to.  
Yeah, didn't I do my best?  
And wasn't home here when I left?

I've seen boys fall to pieces,  
Grown men cry out for Jesus  
Til they're black and blue.  
I thought God was on our side.  
Weren't we suppose to be the good guys  
That would never lose?  
Cause I don't see no ticker tape or five mile parades  
Sayin "Thank you, son."  
Just folks that sit and judge me  
Who ain't seen or did what I've done.

Didn't I burn, didn't I bleed enough for you?  
I faced your fears  
Felt pain so you won't have to.  
Yeah, didn't I do my best?  
And wasn't home here when I left?


	9. Final Wishes

* * *

**Chapter 9: Last Wishes**

Bo was surprised to find himself the first awake the next morning. Luke seemed to have this uncanny ability to always be up just a little bit before him, but this Sunday morning he was still soundly sawing Z's. Bo ordered up some breakfast and sat down to wait in a sunlit chair. He grinned, suddenly, and stifled a laugh as he thought back on one of Brock's stories from the night before. The man sure told some wild ones, and Bo wasn't sure he believed a single one of the pranks Luke supposedly pulled - not responsible, sensible Luke! - but it made him laugh nonetheless. However, Bo reflected, even if none of the grizzly Marine's stories were true, he'd still learned a heck of a lot about his cousin in the last week. Not that it changed a thing - if anything, Luke was even more of a hero in Bo's eyes, a fine example of a man he hoped he could live up to.

The knock on the door bringing breakfast finally woke Luke, and the cousins ate quickly, dressed in their Sunday suits, and headed for a little church down the road. No one minded the two out-of-towners joining in the back row, particularly not when the dark-haired one looked so heartfelt and earnest at his prayers. The blond, on the other hand, had a finely-tuned ability to look like he was paying attention, even when he wasn't. Afterwards, the boys joined Pauline for a light lunch, and went back to the hotel room to wait until their three o'clock appointment in the city. Neither bothered changing - a suit and tie seemed the only proper attire for the reading of a will, and it wouldn't be that long. While Bo watched TV, Luke went down into the lobby to call and check in with Uncle Jesse. When he came back, Bo was watching the pre-race commentary on ESPN, hoping for a few glimpses of his favorite drivers.

"Bo."

"Yeah, Luke?" Bo answered without looking up.

"When I asked you, 'what did Uncle Jesse have to say' yesterday, you kinda left a few things out."

Now Bo looked up. That wasn't a happy tone of voice. Luke stood there with his hands on his belt and a very familiar exasperated expression - the same as when Bo spent a night with a girl instead of fixing the General's busted radiator, or managed to do pretty much anything that got them in trouble. "Well, I, uh…"

"Why didn't you tell me Uncle Jesse was in trouble?.!"

" 'Cause I didn't want to worry you, Luke!" Bo answered defensively, shutting off the TV, "I was gonna tell ya, just…not until we were on the way home."

Luke sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed. Uncle Jesse had said that was probably Bo's reason. It was no use getting mad at Bo anyhow - he was only trying to look out for his older cousin. That much was evident from the hurt in his tone when he answered.

"Aww, I'm sorry, Bo. I know, I ain't exactly been myself these last few days. I appreciate you watchin' out for me, but I wish you'da told me about this…we gotta come up with somethin'. You had any ideas?"

"No, not unless you want to rob a bank on the way back," Bo joked. Phew! He was glad Luke wasn't too mad at him.

Luke shook his head and smiled, "Nah, Uncle Jesse'd kick both our tails for that. Not to mention our probation!" He glanced up at the clock - 2:15. "Hey, we'd better get going."

--------------------------------

Bo and Luke reached the district courthouse with a minimum of wrong turns, and parked the General next to the handful of cars in the empty parking lot. A security guard at the front door let them in and directed them to the judge's offices. Luke knocked and entered, followed closely by Bo. The judge sat at a broad mahogany desk, examining some papers in his hands. In various chairs around the office sat Mr. Rainey, Rob's lawyer, Pauline, Ted Hopkins, Rob's coworker, Jillian Summer and her fiancé, and another man with a lawyerly air who must be Ms. Summer's lawyer. Luke and Bo took seats in the back, the last to arrive, though it was only 2:50.

The ten minutes passed in silence. The judge continued reading through his papers, and appeared to be completely unaware of the eight men and women sitting in his office. Luke wondered for the fifth time why Rob specifically wanted him to be there. Not as a witness, certainly - there were plenty of those. Possibly as the executor of the estate - Rob would trust him with such duties, but there was no reason Pauline or Mr. Rainey wouldn't serve the same function. Besides, Rob hardly had two nickels to rub together most of his life; the VA had paid for his hospital bills and funeral services.

At exactly 3:00pm, the judge set his papers down and looked up, making a quick sweep of the faces around him. He had a blank face and dull eyes that showed no hint of the annoyance he felt for working on a Sunday afternoon. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are here this afternoon to read the last will and testament of Mr. Robert Thomas Fulton of Gary, Indiana. Would those gathered here please identify themselves and their relation to the deceased?"

Beginning with Mr. Rainey on the judge's left, each spoke in turn.

"Hank Rainey, Mr. Fulton's attorney."

"Pauline Herschmen, Robert's friend and nurse in his last days."

"Theodore Hopkins, I worked with Rob."

"Jillian Summer. Mrs. Fulton was my aunt."

"Alex Tyers, Jillian's fiancé."

"Daniel Fox, Ms. Summer's attorney."

"Lucas Duke. I'm a friend of Rob's."

"Bo…Beauregard Duke. I'm Luke's cousin, sir."

The judge studied each face as they spoke, and made no sign of recognition or familiarity to anyone. Then he picked up a brown envelope from the side of his desk and broke the seal. Had Luke been sitting closer to the front, he might have seen the hungry look in Summer's eyes as he did so. "Very well, then. I, Judge Reginald Chambers of the Virginia District Court, verify that these documents came into my possession sealed, and that the signature on the will matches the signature on the seal, notarized and witnessed April 21st 1982 in Indianapolis, Indiana. The final will and testament of Mr. Fulton reads as follows:

"_To my dear friends who are gathered here, I extend my love and warmest thanks. Whatever possessions I may have in my last days, it was you who made my life rich. I could not have asked for more. If you mourn my passing, please, don't. I have lived my life and escaped many sooner endings, and by God's grace I am at peace._"

The line made Luke smile despite himself. Pure Rob, straightforward and frank.

"_Now, to business. To Ted Hopkins of Gary Indiana, I leave my hounds Sasha and Riptide, which he has cared for in my absence and grown to love, I know. Ted, may your children grow strong and happy with those dogs at their side._

"_To Pauline Herschmen of Indianapolis Indiana, I leave the pictures, letters, and belongings I kept at Bright Crossing, to keep or distribute as she will. Pauline, your care and friendship have meant the world to me, and I could not have asked for a better companion in my last days. Thank you, with all my heart._

"_To the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Fund, I leave a sum of twenty thousand dollars, towards the construction of that honorable memorial, and towards what other purposes they see fit._

"_To Lucas Duke of Hazzard Georgia, I leave the entire remainder of my estate, for the benefit of the family and town that he loves. Luke, since the day I first met you coming off that chopper, you have been a second son to me. I couldn't be more proud to have known and served with you. Take care of those cousins of yours._

"_To the Summers family, should they deign to be present, I leave these words: I have agreed with your politics from the first, and if I could have ended the war by any words, I would have. But I couldn't, and I acted as I thought best for my family and my country. Remember that it was you who continued the war after my return home._

"_Signed, Robert Thomas Fulton, Staff Sergeant United States Marine Corps, April 21 1982._"

The room was silent. Luke almost didn't realize the judge had finished reading. Jillian Summer stood, and her fiancé and lawyer quickly followed suit. Then she turned and walked out, glaring at Luke ferociously as she passed. Bo obstinately returned her glare.

A few minutes later, Mr. Hopkins and Pauline were on their feet, shaking thankful hands with Mr. Rainey, who handed them a couple of forms and obtained their signatures on others. Luke still sat perfectly still, open-mouthed and shocked. Twenty thousand dollars to the VMF? Where on earth had Rob gotten that kind of money? _The entire remainder…a second son to me…couldn't be more proud…by God's grace I am at peace_.

"Luke," Bo nudged him.

Luke looked up. Mr. Rainey was standing in front of him, waiting expectantly. Pauline and Mr. Hopkins both patted his shoulder as they filed past. Bo was looking at him with concern again.

"Mr. Duke, I understand that you need to return home, but this won't take long," Mr. Rainey was saying, "Robert was quite efficient about consolidating his remaining possessions in the last year, so you needn't worry - the house, the land, the livestock, and everything therein was sold months ago." _The house? The land?_ _The entire remainder…_ "And the paperwork and bank check for the VMF has already been taken care of as well. All that's left is for you to sign some of these papers for me, with your identification, and we can go right to the bank in the morning."

"The bank?" Luke managed hoarsely.

"Yes, Mr. Duke, to claim the remaining balance of Robert's bank account."

"How much are we talkin' about, here?" Bo asked. He hated to have secondary motives in mind, but he did.

The attorney opened the folder in his hand and consulted his notes. "Well, let me see here…looks like about thirty-eight thousand dollars, give or take interest."

Even Bo was struck speechless. His mouth moved, but no sound came out. Luke shook his head. "Mr. Rainey, there must be some mistake…Rob never…he wasn't…I can't…"

The lawyer smiled kindly. "I quite understand, Mr. Duke. If you'll permit me…Robert spoke most highly of you throughout the whole process, and he made it my sworn duty to make sure you were here and you received the money. I remember him very specifically saying, 'Hank, that boy is stubborn to a fault. You tie him up and shove that check in his pocket if you have to, if he refuses to take it.' Shall I fetch the rope?"

"But, where did he get all that money?.!"

"Well, Mr. Duke, since you are inheriting it…a great part of Robert's assets come from a trust fund he and his wife set up for their son the day he was born, to pay for his college education. Another great part came from his wife's life insurance policy, set up through her family. I understand the Summers were quite rich in her youth, and were quite angry that Robert received that money. I believe that's what Ms. Summer hoped for today, as well. Both the trust fund and Mrs. Fulton's life insurance were paid to Robert when he returned from the war, but he hardly spent a penny of it, and it only built interest in the last nine years."

Both Bo and Mr. Rainey watched as Luke leaned forward, considering. He ran both hands through his hair and searched all around the office with wide eyes. "Well," he finally said, looking up. He turned to Bo. "I guess you've got a phone call to make to Uncle Jesse."

Bo grinned and laughed, slapping his back. Luke broke a grin himself, and wiped a tear from damp eyes.

"Congratulations, Mr. Duke. Now, if you don't mind, the paperwork…I'm sure Judge Chambers would appreciate us vacating his office quickly."

While Luke signed, he looked up with a new thought. "What time does the bank open in the morning?"

"I believe the nearest branch opens at eight a.m."

Luke looked up at Bo. "We're gonna be hard pressed to get home with that money by five. Less than nine hours - think we can make it?"

Bo grinned. "I guess we'll find out, won't we?"

* * *


	10. To Catch A Duke

* * *

**Chapter 10: To Catch A Duke**

Uncle Jesse and Daisy were fixing up a small Sunday dinner back at the farmhouse, solemn and quiet. Friends and neighbors had pitched in to come up with nearly a thousand dollars for the Duke family, but it wasn't nearly enough by far. This would probably be their last dinner together before Jesse was sent to prison.

Rinsing potatoes in the sink, Daisy looked up and glanced out the window, and saw a sight that made her smile despite herself. Enos was out there, trying very hard not to be seen as he peered around the oak tree at the occupants of the house. She knew they'd been 'under surveillance' since Friday, though for what exactly she couldn't imagine. Finally, Daisy left off the potatoes and dried her hands, stepping out to the porch.

"Enos, why don't you come on in here, an' stop hiding behind that tree!" she called.

Red-faced, the deputy stepped out from the oak. "I cain't, Daisy - I'm supposed to have you under surveillance."

"Well, you can watch us a whole lot easier from the kitchen table, sugah!"

Enos considered for a moment, and then smiled and walked up to the porch. "Mmm, smells good, Daisy," he said as he stepped inside.

"That's cause I just took a cherry pie out of the oven. Don't you touch, now, it ain't cool yet." Daisy went back to the potatoes, peeling them to cut and boil for mashed potatoes.

"Say, Enos," Jesse asked, just putting in a chicken to roast, "Would you like to stay for dinner and dessert?"

"Oh boy, would I, Uncle Jesse! Thank you! I'm sorry I have to have you under surveillance and all - Rosco's orders."

"Just what are you supposed to be surveilling us for, Enos? We ain't breakin' the law or nothin'," Daisy asked.

"To be honest, Daisy, I don't rightly know. Ol' Rosco just said to report anything special going on, but the only thing I've seen special around here is you," he added shyly.

"Oh, Enos, you're so sweet!"

The phone rang just then, and Daisy wiped her hands again to answer it. "Duke farm, Daisy speaking…well hi, Bo!" Jesse looked up expectantly.

"_Daisy, you're not gonna believe this…_"

Daisy gasped when Bo told her the news. "Bo Duke, if you're leadin' me on, I swear you'll be sleeping in the barn for the rest of your days!"

"_No, Daisy, it's the truth! Now, you tell Uncle Jesse, quick, and tell him not to worry a minute more! We'll be there, I promise!_"

"Alright, Bo, I'll tell him. Drive safe, now!" She hung up and turned to her uncle, still shocked.

"Well, what it is?.!" Jesse asked, worried.

"Luke…Luke's friend…left him thirty-eight thousand dollars! They're, they're picking it up in the morning, and they'll be here by five o'clock tomorrow!"

Slow realization dawned on Jesse's face and turned into a delighted smile. With a whoop he swept Daisy up into a hug and spun her around, while Enos watched with a bright smile. Boy, he loved good news!

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At exactly 8:18am, Bo and Luke left the bank and parted ways with Mr. Rainey, heading straight for the General in the parking lot. After calling Uncle Jesse with the news, they had spent the evening - between watching the Nascar race on TV - studying the road atlas and choosing the fastest route home. Then it was early to bed and early to rise, checking out of the hotel at seven-thirty to meet the lawyer at the bank at seven-fifty. Now Bo carried a briefcase stacked with bearer bonds in thousand-dollar denominations and all the paperwork, while Luke tucked two certified bank checks in his pocket for the exact amounts owed in back taxes to the county and state. Then they were off, Luke driving, Bo navigating. Luke still refused to let Bo drive - that headache had come back late Sunday, and he wasn't taking any chances.

The roaring horsepower of the General was no match for the gridlock of Monday morning D.C. traffic, however, and it was after nine before the boys broke into the clearer highways heading away from the city. Luke blazed along as fast as he dared in the distinctive car, which was still well over the speed limit. They had done the math and knew they had to go at least eighty all the way, more when they could get away with it, to reach Hazzard in time, and that was if they only stopped _very_ quickly for gas.

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Deputy Enos Strate reported for duty Monday morning with a bounce in his step. He was very glad Uncle Jesse wouldn't have to go to jail. He'd tailed Jesse and Daisy all weekend, and couldn't stand to see either of them so unhappy – especially Daisy. Enos made some coffee and sat down at the desk to read the morning paper and wait for Rosco to get there. He didn't have to wait very long. Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane arrived a little after nine, early to work and looking rather cheerful.

"Morning, Sheriff!" Enos greeted him brightly.

"Enos! What are you doing here, you dipstick? I told you to go watch the Duke farm!" Rosco nagged.

"Well, I...I did, I watched Daisy an' Uncle Jesse all weekend, but they wasn't doing anything against the law!"

"It's not what they didn't do, it's what they're going to do, you meadow muffin!"

"What's that, Sheriff?"

"They're going to escape, to hide so we can't arrest Jesse Duke!"

Enos smiled broadly. "Why, they've got no reason to do that, Rosco! Bo an' Luke are on their way home right now, with the money to pay off those taxes!"

"They are, huh? Ha! Where would the Duke boys get money like that?"

"Well, Daisy said an old friend of Luke's passed away, and left Luke all kinds of money! They're going to collect it this morning and drive straight here from Washington D.C."

Just then Boss opened the door to the back office, where he'd been enjoying his post-breakfast snack of country-fried steak and buttered corn. "Rosco! What's all this yammering going on out here? Can't a man eat in peace?"

"Sorry, Boss," Rosco apologized, "Enos here was just spouting some hogwash about the Duke boys coming back with money to pay those taxes!"

"What!" Fortunately Boss didn't have anything in his mouth at the moment, because if he had, he would have choked on it. "Enos, where did you hear that?.!"

Enos related the news he'd overheard from Daisy.

"$38,000!" Boss's eyes lit up at the figure, but he scowled at the thought of the Dukes having it to pay their back taxes. "Rosco! I want you and Enos out on the roads! You're gonna _arrest_ the Duke boys as soon as they set foot back inside the county!"

Rosco looked confused. "Uh, what for, exactly, Boss?"

"What for? For robbery, you turnip-for-brains! You don't think they actually inherited that money, do you? Who in their right mind would give that much money to a _Duke_? Now get going! And in the meantime, I've got a few phone calls to make…"

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It was early afternoon, and the General Lee was running strong. The boys had stopped for gas and road food not long ago, and weren't far from the South Carolina border. Happily, they'd made excellent time and encountered no trouble from patrolmen on the highway, thanks to a few more impatient drivers who'd sprung the speed traps before Bo and Luke could get caught. But, that was about to change. At the crest of a sweeping hill, Bo caught a glimpse of the view far ahead.

"Ah, Luke, did you see that?"

"See what?"

"I sure hope I'm wrong, but it looked to me like either an accident or a road block – a whole line of red and blue flashing lights, about two miles off."

"I sure hope you're wrong too, 'cause we don't have time to stop. Let's have a look at the top o' this next hill."

This time Luke craned his neck to look too. Sure enough, right about at the state line, there was a line of state police cruisers across the road, with a thin stream of southbound traffic trickling through a narrow lane one at a time.

"Looks like they're lookin' for somebody," Luke commented as they coursed down the hill and up the last short rise between them and the barricade.

"Well, it ain't us! We didn't do anything, this time!" Bo said worriedly. He was too used to being blamed when something went wrong.

They came over the last crest. Suddenly, the troopers who'd been idly standing by stood up straight andbrought theirrifles to bear at the sight of the orange car.

"Don't be so sure of that, cuz. Hang on!" Luke warned, pressing the pedal to the floor. 80…85…90…95…there was no slamming through that solid barricade of cruisers, so Luke sighted on the angled ramp of a flatbed tow truck that was getting ready to load an overheated Oldsmobile. The truck driver dove out of the way as the orange Charger roared up the ramp and was airborne, sailing up and over the barricade like any ol' creekbed back home with a Bo Duke _Yeeeeeeeeeeeehaaaaaaaaaawww!_ The troopers ducked for cover as the General landed with a WHUMP, and Luke was flooring the gas again and racing off before they recovered.

"Why are they after _us_?.!" Bo asked, turning around to see a few quicker troopers scrambling into their cars. Before long sirens were wailing and a half-dozen South Carolina troopers were in hot pursuit.

"I don't know, but you can bet your boots Boss Hogg has something to do with it – maybe he heard we've got the money and he's trying to stop us from getting home with it. Here," Luke reached down and grabbed the road atlas, throwing it in Bo's lap, "Find us a detour, quick!"

"Uh…uh…" Bo flipped open the map and scanned the page, "Here, here, take this exit!" he instructed, none too soon – rubber burned as Luke swerved into the exit lane and hit the brakes coming down the ramp. "Left, left! Take 29 South!"

Not stopping for the traffic light at the bottom of the ramp, Luke wove through the light traffic to the tune of many angry horns honking and the sirens close behind. He found the state highway and turned onto it, urging the General back to interstate speeds. Two state troopers followed doggedly, the others lost at the exit and amidst the ramp traffic.

"We don't want to stay on this long, it'll take us out of our way," Luke said, weaving around the slower traffic on the two-lane road. An oncoming eighteen-wheeler blasted it horn as he narrowly moved out of the way – one South Carolina trooper wasn't so skilled. His tail was clipped by the edge of the truck as he tried to follow Luke, sending the cruiser spinning into a ditch on the side of the road. Bo looked back to see if he was alright, and grinned to see the indignant trooper climb out of his scuffed vehicle shaking one fist.

"Don't worry," Bo told Luke, "This road runs in the same direction as the highway for a ways, we can cut back across as soon as you lose this guy," he pointed back at the one cruiser still following.

Luke glanced in the rearview at the trooper closing at fifty yards behind. "What d'you say we find out if this fella was raised in the city, or in the country?" There was a dirt road up ahead, and Luke made for it, turning off in a cloud of dust.

The trooper followed gamely, but Bo could tell by the way he skid around the curves that he was no country boy. Luke increased his speed while the trooper was forced to slow down, and pretty soon they'd lost him. Luke kept up the pace until they found their way back to the state highway, and then back to the interstate, but they had lost precious time.

"Keep a sharp eye out – they're sure to be watching for us," he directed his younger cousin.

As they roared down the highway, Bo kept a sharp watch out front and back for lights and sirens, cruisers hidden along the side, or unmarked police cars among the light traffic. After a half-hour of vigilance, they both relaxed some, confident the pursuit was lost. They continued on as before, pushing the delicate balance between speed and safety. Fifty miles from the Georgia state line, Luke pulled over at a gas station, and Bo filled up the tank while Luke ran some numbers on pencil and paper.

"How we doing?" Bo asked. It was three o'clock.

Luke scratched his hair, frowning. "We're gonna be pushing it. At least another hour and forty minutes. You better check the radiator, too – we don't need it overheating on us."

Bo did as he was told, popping the hood and unscrewing the hot cap while Luke went inside to pay and to get both bottled water and water for the radiator. They refilled it and drank thirstily themselves before closing everything up and climbing back inside. Off they went again. Luke carefully tried stretching his legs a bit in the driver's seat, cramped and sore from sitting in the same position for nearly seven hours.

"I can drive if you want, Luke," Bo offered again, but his cousin's expression answered for him. Bo went back to looking at the road map. Suddenly his brow furrowed, and he looked up at the highway. "Luke, turn off here."

"What?"

"Here!"

Horns blared angrily at the General again as Luke swerved across two lanes and exited. Bo directed him right, onto a state highway, and blew a sigh of relief.

"What was that for?" Luke asked.

"The interstate crosses the state line at the river," Bo explained, "If they're waiting for us like earlier…"

"…There's no way to escape them on the bridge! Good thinkin', Bo!" Luke grinned. "No wonder they haven't been chasin' after us, they were probably planning to trap us there! Now, where does this take us?"

"Up 76, across 123, and straight on home. They can't cover every road into the state," Bo reasoned.

**No, Bo, but they sure can try! I'm almost afraid to look – y'all tell me when it's all over, y'hear?**

* * *


	11. Races and Finish Lines

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**Chapter 11: Races and Finish Lines**

"Uhh, Luke?"

"I see 'em, I see 'em! Got any ideas?"

"You're the one driving!"

Luke took a deep breath. They'd come thundering along the stretch of highway at top speed, only to sight the small bridge up ahead with two Georgia cruisers waiting on the other side. The troopers sat in their vehicles, obviously not expecting the Dukes on their stretch of road, and Luke could see the scramble for radio mikes as they called in the sighting. Now there were no side-roads, no turnoffs, nothing to jump from and no way to make it across the broad river anyway, except by the guarded bridge. Luke slammed the brakes a few hundred feet from the bridge and whipped the car around in a tight 180. Bo thought he was going to try a different route – maybe up along 76 – until he hit the brakes and turned again a quarter-mile from the bridge. He floored the gas and sent a prayer heavenward.

"Luke…" Bo said as the General roared down the empty road.

"You got your seatbelt on, right?" Luke asked.

Bo didn't answer, only pulled the belt tighter across his lap, and thought his own prayers. Luke sent the racecar charging down the road between the metal girders of the bridge, and those two cruisers were rapidly coming closer…closer…closer… Both Dukes cringed and braced themselves for the impact, and a moment later, opened their eyes, miraculously unscathed. The troopers had pulled their cruisers back out of the way, unwilling to bust their necks in the one-sided game of chicken. Bo whooped delight and victory.

Soon, though, the troopers had pulled out and were bearing down on the General, so Luke didn't slow down a lick. Bo glanced at the clock – 4:25. Luke saw it too. Coming into more familiar territory, he continued to barrel down the roads, glad that they had stopped for gas so recently. There would be no stopping now, not until they got to the county offices in Hazzard with those checks. Bo kept watch on the troopers behind them, who couldn't catch them but weren't giving up. A few minutes later, he was thrown against the door when Luke swerved violently, avoiding another cruiser that had pulled out in front of them. Bo looked at the green squad car, and saw that it was no state trooper – it was Sheriff Little. They had entered Chickasaw County.

Luke cringed as the sheriff pulled alongside and slammed into the driver's side of the General, trying to run them off the road. He shoved back into Little with equal force, just enough to give the General running room to turn onto the dirt road up ahead – the Hatchapee Road leading southwest into Hazzard. Luke zigged and zagged, dodging down every shortcut and side-road he could think of to make time and try to shake his tails. Worse, he knew Rosco and Enos would be waiting at the county line, and they were quickly running out of time.

"What the heck…?" Bo said, again turned to watch out the back window. Sheriff Little had pulled off the chase, leaving just the two troopers behind them. A moment later, Luke saw the reason.

"The bridge is out up ahead! Hang on!"

**Now folks, you might wonder just who builds the bridges in the area, since they seem to get washed out so often. It's the same company that builds these awful roads – Hogg Construction, Incorporated.**

Luke slowed a bit and turned off the dirt road onto the grass, making for an upslope at the edge of the riverbank. The troopers followed closely. Flying up the natural ramp, the General leaped into a graceful curving arc over the sparkling stream, landing with a heavy THUD that rattled the Dukes' bones. The first trooper followed, losing some distance on the General as Luke sped off, but the second trooper lost his nerve at the last second and tried to brake, sliding the cruiser into the stream instead.

Bo laughed. "Two down, one to go!"

"Make that two to go," Luke corrected as Little pulled into view far ahead – he'd taken a second road with a sturdier bridge and a shortcut to boot. "And you can bet Rosco's up ahead."

"Well, we'd better make it fast, we've only got fifteen minutes to go twenty miles."

Bo braced again as the General swerved left up onto the embankment to slice around Little, but his older cousin expertly corrected and guided the car along, racing faster than they had on any moonshine run. If only Nascar could see them now! Through the cloud of dust in their wake, Bo could still see the trooper, siren wailing rather pointlessly by now. He turned to look forward. A mile ahead, Enos and Rosco both had their squad cars blocking the road, just on the other side of the white sign, 'Hazzard County Line'. Flash looked out the window of one car.

Luke surveyed the scene, and decided there was plenty of running room in the grass to the right of the blockade to go around. He'd time it just right, swerve at the last minute, and hopefully send his pursuers straight into the Hazzard Sheriff's cruisers. Then Luke saw the glitter of glass shards on the road, a few seconds too late.

"Hang on, Bo!" he shouted, already into the turn around the roadblock when he heard the POP of a blown tire.

Just as he'd planned, Little's cruiser slammed sideways into Enos and Rosco's cars as he tried to turn, too little too late, and the trooper managed to follow the General, tearing a tire himself on the glass. Neither Bo nor Luke was watching, though – the one was busy praying with white-knuckle grips on the door and seat while the other desperately tried to regain control of the skidding, spinning car. With unmatched skill – except perhaps by his cousin – Luke maneuvered the car left just shy of hitting a drooping weeping willow, and made for the road, fish-tailing wildly on the blown rear tire. 4:48.

"Luke, me an' the General don't like this!" Bo commented as they drove on down the road, jerking from side to side. He looked out the back. The trooper hadn't made it past the willow tree, and Rosco and Enos were still scrambling to recover their cruisers from the crash.

"Well, you and the General are gonna have to hang on a minute until we can find a good spot – get ready to jump out and change it."

Turning a curve and leaving the scene behind, Luke searched the sides of the road ahead and found what he was looking for – a heavy thicket of bushes where they could hide from sight. He pulled over, leaving the General running while they both leaped out. It took just under a minute to change the tire – a new Duke record. Bo threw the flat in the trunk and slammed it shut, and was only half in the General when Luke took off again, seconds ahead of the recovered Rosco, Enos, Little, and Georgia state trooper. Little was out of his jurisdiction in Hazzard County, but he'd be damned if he was letting the Dukes get away this time!

--------------------------------------------

Jesse Duke stood inside the Hazzard County clerk's offices, pacing nervously. Daisy and Cooter sat in chairs, while Seamus Flynn leaned against one wall. After hearing Jesse's story Friday, he'd decided to come personally to take the state payment and make sure there were no problems. He pulled out his pocket watch and looked at the time. 4:58.

"Are you sure your nephews will be here, Jesse?" he asked, concerned.

"Oh, don't you worry, Seamus – those boys of mine said they'd be here, and they'll be here if they have to go through fire and brimstone to do it," Jesse reassured him, though inside he was a twisted knot of worry. What if the boys were in an accident, speeding like that? What if they were hurt? Or robbed? Or worse?

The front door opened just then, with a _ding!_ of the bell, and all eyes looked up hopefully. Hopes sank when the door revealed the rotund white-garbed figure of J.D. Hogg, smiling in a manner that was never a good thing for a Duke.

"Afternoon, Jesse! Those boys get here with that money yet?" he asked innocently, pulling out his watch. 4:59 and 40 seconds…45 seconds…50 seconds…55…5:00. "Well, well, well! The business day is over, and as soon as Rosco gets back, I'll have him escort you to your cell!" Boss exclaimed smugly, "You'd better get used to those bars, Jesse, 'cause it's all you and those boys are gonna see for the next twenty years!"

Seamus looked at his watch again. 5:03. "I'm sorry, Jesse, I…"

Movement flashed by the curtained window outside – a blur of blue plaid and cream. The door burst open and Bo and Luke tumbled in, gasping for breath. Bo had the briefcase in one hand, while Luke pulled the folded checks from his pocket and handed them to Jesse, catching hold of the wall as he panted. Sirens followed them as four cruisers skid to a halt outside, and before Luke caught his breath, Rosco was through the door with his pistol drawn.

"Freeeeezze, you Dukes!" he cried. "That's it, I've got you now, I've got you!"

"You ain't got nothing!" Jesse overrode Rosco's glee, handing Seamus the state check and Boss Hogg the county check.

Boss held up his hands, though, refusing to take it. "Uhn-uh, Jesse! This business day is over! You'll have to turn it in tomorrow when the county offices open again, from _jail_. Lock 'em up, Rosco!"

"Now hold on a moment here, Mr. Hogg," Seamus objected, "My watch says 4:59. Mr. Duke still has one more minute to make his payment."

"_Well then you'd better get your_…" …watch fixed! Boss stopped himself as he realized who he was yelling at. "Get your, ah, payment in quick, Jesse!" Jesse offered the check again, and with a scowl, J.D. took it, while Seamus Flynn watched with a smile.

Bo and Luke both grinned, and Rosco lowered his gun, but the state trooper had other ideas.

"I don't know _what_ is going on here, but you two are under arrest, for armed robbery in the state of Virginia!" the trooper gruffly declared, taking hold of the boys by the arms. More than one surprised face turned to look at him - in fact, only two men in the room weren't surprised. Boss exchanged a sneaky look with Rosco, who stopped himself just short of snickering with glee.

"Now, hang on a minute, we didn't rob anyone!" Luke protested, "We was just trying to get home to pay Uncle Jesse's tax bill!"

The trooper, though, had the same bulldog mentality of Sheriff Little, who stood just behind him - once he got hold of something, he didn't let go. It took ten minutes of discussion and explaining, and another ten minutes of phone calls, to convince him to unhand the fugitives. As it turned out, the Georgia state police had been informed by the South Carolina state police who'd been informed by the North Carolina state police who'd been informed by the Virginia state police that Bo and Luke were dangerous felons, and the Virginia state police had no idea what anyone was talking about because they hadn't called anyone. In the end, Seamus Flynn ended up making a few calls, and once Luke agreed to pay for damages and for speeding tickets in four states - there was no denying either one - all charges against him and Bo were dropped.

"Thank you again, Seamus," Jesse said as the trooper and Little stomped out the door in a huff. At the back of the office, Boss was roaring insults at Rosco, while Enos congratulated the young Dukes.

"You're more than welcome, Jesse," Seamus replied. "Oh, that reminds me…" Checking to make sure Boss wasn't looking, he pulled out his pocket watch and reset it to the correct time.

"By the way, Luke," Daisy was asking, "How come y'all were so out of breath when you got in here?"

Bo and Luke looked at each other and laughed. Luke answered. "The General's radiator blew just on the other side of town, so we ran for it."

He gestured out the window, and they all looked and saw Hazzard's first official traffic jam. The orange Charger sat in the middle of the road a half-mile down the street, and the state trooper was shouting at Little, who'd rear-ended him when he stopped to avoid hitting it. While they laughed, Seamus walked over to Boss, who'd finally finished venting at Rosco.

"Now, Mr. Hogg, let's discuss property taxes…" he began, putting an arm on J.D.'s shoulder and walking him towards the back offices.

**Now, wouldn't you know it? Ol' Seamus was back in Hazzard again at 9am Tuesday morning. Boss Hogg got his due when Seamus went over his properties and paperwork one by one, and handed him a bill that left Boss in tears. **

**As for Luke, well, they say 'a fool and his money are soon parted', and though Luke was no fool, he was too warm-hearted to keep all that money for himself. Once he'd paid for the damages and tickets he owed, fixed up the General, got some new playground equipment for the elementary school, and bought Uncle Jesse a new suit and Daisy a new dress, he had just enough left to buy a round of drinks at the Boar's Nest, which Bo used to propose a toast to Rob Fulton and Luke Duke, the best Marines in the Corps.**

**But our story ain't quite done yet, folks.**

Later on that night, after a well-appreciated home-cooked dinner, Luke settled himself out on the porch. After the rollercoaster of a week and the mad race to get home, he was all too glad of the peace and quiet of home. He took a deep breath and sighed, staring out across the grass and the trees in the fading sunlight with his legs stretched out before him. Luke sat like that for a while, just breathing and watching and listening, the strain and tension gone from his thoughts. He yawned, and was thinking about heading inside when the kitchen door opened, and Jesse's heavy footsteps came out. Inside, Bo was saying goodnight to Daisy, and he came to the door to say goodnight to his uncle and cousin before heading to bed.

It was quiet again, Bo's footsteps faded and the bedroom door closed, when Luke commented, "He's still got that headache."

Behind him, Jesse nodded. "I'll give Doc Appleby a call in the morning, but he should be right as rain in a few days."

Luke nodded, and it was quiet for several more minutes before Jesse spoke again.

"He said you finally told him how you got shot."

Luke turned around with bewildered surprise. "You knew about that?"

Jesse smiled down at his eldest nephew. "I knew about that the second day you came back, when I saw that scar - there's only one thing in the world that makes a scar like that. That and the fact that it was six months before you could run ten feet without getting winded. I figured you'd tell us when you were ready."

Luke smiled, turning back to look out across the farm. It figured. "On the way back, Bo told me he'd always thought it was from getting my appendix out."

Jesse barked a short laugh and shook his head without answering.

Luke's smile faded, though. "Uncle Jesse - does it ever really go away?" he asked with distant eyes.

Jesse knew he wasn't referring to the scar. "No, Luke," he had to admit, "It doesn't. But you learn to deal with it in your own way, in time, and it gets a little easier. You never forget, though - not the bad, or the good." The old Duke patriarch had memories of his own, from another war a much longer time ago.

Luke pulled himself to his feet and turned to his uncle with a smile. "I wouldn't want to."He patted his uncle's shoulder as he passed. "Good night, Uncle Jesse." Then he went inside for a well-deserved good night's sleep. Jesse stayed out on the porch for a while longer, watching the sky thicken with clouds in the fading sunlight, before he went inside as well.

The next morning, it was pouring outside when Jesse woke to a dismal dawn. On his way to the kitchen, he opened the door to his nephews' bedroom, and saw both young men sleeping soundly in their beds. Jesse smiled and quietly shut the door.

**The End**

* * *

**Author's Notes: As many of you already know, I draw on my own experiences for all my stories - not that I've ever say, been shot at by thugs working as heavies for some Congressional conspiracy, but the bits and pieces of my life are there. This story is no exception, and is in fact more true to reality than anything else so far. Luke's post-Vietnam tale is a composite of reflections and stories from three men, to whom I dedicate this story and thank profusely - my grandfather, who is more like a Duke than I can properly express, my Uncle Paul, who died exactly as Rob did of lung cancer from exposure to Agent Orange in the war, and Mr. Kinney, who years ago shared his heartbreaking memories of his return home from Vietnam with my high school algebra class. Luke's story is thier story. It was my grandfather who nearly killed his brother in his sleep after returning from the Korean War, and whose picture I found in an album sitting in a rickshaw with his friend, who constantly pulled the cleverest pranks on his fellows and commanding officer, and who finally told his teenage granddaughter many of the stories that he never could tell anyone in his family, that his own daughter had never heard before, because she looked at long-lost pictures and asked questions and listened with respect. **

**So, if you enjoyed anything of this story, of the vivid or realisticdescriptions and the painful emotion, take a lesson from it. ****If Luke needed a hug, I figure there's a few hundred thousand or more like him that could use a hug, a plate of cookies, or a friendly ear.**

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